A Beautiful Lie
by RayRox360
Summary: Head down. Mouth shut. Eyes closed. Only a few of the rules Richard Parker carved into Peter's mind. But none are as important as Rule #1: Don't trust anybody. Yet, things turn complicated after Germany. After Tony Stark. As Tony copes with the effects of Siberia, he'll discover that Peter Parker is a whole new headache for him to deal with, one he'll find he doesn't mind as much.
1. Rule 1

**A Beautiful Lie**

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 **Full Summary:**

 **Head down, mouth shut, eyes closed.**

 **These were only a few of the rules Richard Parker carved into Peter's mind.**

 **Follow. Repeat. Survive.**

 **They were not, however, Spider-Man's rules. Spider-Man was brave, courageous and so freaking annoying, everything Peter Parker was not. After all, he couldn't even sum up the courage to look his father in the eye, not that it was a wise decision to make if he valued his health. After fourteen years, Peter's learned the best way to survive is to follow Rule #1, the most important out of all of them: Don't trust anyone.**

 **However, things get much more complicated when he finds himself on Tony Stark's radar after the events in Germany.**

 **Meanwhile, as Tony tries to cope with the aftermath of the shitstorm that was Siberia, he finds he now has to deal with a scrawny, idiotic little nervous wreck of a teenager that for some reason seems to flinch whenever anybody even breathes in his general direction.**

 **And yet...there's something about him. Something Tony can't quite put his finger on. It's the way Peter always seems to have a nervous smile on his face, the innocence in his eyes shining through. It's the way he always seems to be in a good mood despite his numerous problems, which he fights so hard to hide from everyone. It's the way he can make Tony Stark smile in ways he never thought he could.**

 **As Tony struggles to deal with the remnants of the Avengers and Peter battles to keep his demons hidden, the pair will quickly figure out just how much they need each other...just how much they care for each other.**

 **Problem is...**

 **Richard Parker is quick to figure it out as well.**

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 **Part I**

 **The Spider on Springshore Drive**

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 **Prologue: Rule 1**

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 _1) I Will Never Trust Anyone_

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 **Friday - March 4, 2016**

 **Queens, NY - 2764 Springshore Dr. - Parker Residence**

 **03:14 p.m.**

The soft jolt tensing through his stomach signaled the elevator's ascent. He nervously patted the side of his leg, the thick black wire of the cable cord thumping up against his thigh as he firmly held onto the abandoned DVD player. Why someone had thrown it out was still a notable question to him. If external condition and wiring were any indicators, the machine worked just fine.

Whatever. One man's trash is another man's goldmine of salvageable parts and circuits to be used for bigger and better machines and inventions... or something like that. He'd never really been good with quotes.

Apart from the whirling of the elevator motors, the only other sound came from the quick, sharp _clicks_ that rose up from the floor as his foot tapped the ground underneath. As usual, the ride up to his and his father's floor was calm and uneventful, but to Peter Parker, the common negative of it was that it was _much_ too short.

His tongue felt dry and puffy as beads of sweat rolled down his temple, seeming to ignore the sharp cold blasts of AC that swirled through their building. His fingers frantically tapped up and down against his thumb and the side of his pants as his eyes shifted from one place to another, never resting on a single detail for too long before leaping to the next. With his eyes closed, Peter could name you every single dent, scratch, and imperfection in the elevator's surroundings. Not that there were many.

If one were to come across the young boy, they'd simply note it as Peter being Peter, for the fourteen-year-old had never been one for exuding confidence. However, if you were to ask the boy himself for his nervous shuffling, he'd sum it up to one main thing.

It was Friday.

His father came home early from work on Fridays.

Just the sight of the man's expensive car parked outside their building was enough to have Peter twitching nervously, so much so that he'd barely even paid any attention to the _other_ expensive-looking car outside.

Considering his and his father's rooms were on the third story of their large, expensive townhouse, Peter often had a few moments of peace in the elevator, and even more often a few moments where he hoped and prayed for the elevator to break down and trap him inside.

But he was never that lucky.

Speaking of no luck, the elevator had stopped.

 _Great._

Taking a shaky breath to calm his nerves, Peter stepped out of the elevator and into the main room of their living quarters.

In front of the elevator sat the main living room. Long, expensive couches faced away from the elevator while a few turned to face each other. In the center of the sofas stood a long, wooden coffee table that always seemed to hold the latest edition of the city's top science catalogs. Farther into the living room sat a large fireplace underneath a huge flat-screen TV. To the left of the living room stood the bar, racks of different expensive wines, scotches, and other beverages of the same sort lined the wall while tall wooden stools sat underneath the bar. And to the right of the living room sat the wooden staircase that spiraled up to their rooms.

Despite his less than thrilling situation, Peter had to admit, having an entire building all to yourself was pretty cool. And the view wasn't too bad either.

Turning his head to stare out the large glass windows that made up most of the side walls, Peter couldn't help the small smile that formed on his face as he took in the sight of New York City. As usual, a sea of yellow streamed through the roads while rivers of people flowed right alongside it. The obnoxiously bright lights of Town Square could be seen even from a distance as the city bustled with mid-afternoon life.

Quickly blinking back to reality after a mental berating, Peter cautiously lowered his gaze and began to make his way over to the bar next to the windows. Judging from the silence in the large suite, Peter could only pray that his father was down in the basement working in his lab. If that was the case, then he probably wouldn't see him or the others until dinner.

That in itself was a blessing.

Setting his backpack and DVD player down on the polished surface of the bar, Peter pulled his phone out of his back pocket and quickly opened it up, noting that Ned had sent him five new messages. If the emojis were any indicators, Peter could only guess that his friend had just bought a new Lego set and was raving to him about it.

Feeling a small smirk settle onto his face, Peter leaned back against the bar and folded his arms, quickly typing a message back to the boy when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught his attention. Snapping his head up, he nearly dropped his phone in shock as he caught sight of his father sitting on the couch in the center of the room, staring straight at him.

The man was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders highlighted by the suit he was currently wearing. He must have just gotten home. His dark brown hair was slicked back, framing his squared jaw and piercing dark eyes. A set frown was drawn onto his face, the usual stoic emotion he exhibited, if one could even call it that.

"D-dad!" Peter stuttered out instinctively, instantly tensing as the words slipped from his mouth. Quickly righting himself, he placed a hand on the back of his neck and another into the pocket of his jeans. "I...I d-didn't know you were...uhh..." He said quietly, the words trailing off as he caught sight of something strange.

Peter's father, Richard Parker, was the owner of _Parkstem_ _Labs,_ one of the most successful enterprises in the city, despite its small size,specializing in engineering high-tech machinery to be sold to other multi-billion dollar corporations. His work often involved consultation and evaluation, so Peter was quite used to seeing strangers in their building. Heck, the first two floors of their townhouse were used to house some of his father's associates. But never in his life had Peter expected to see in his house the man he was currently staring at.

There, with one arm resting on the lip of the couch and another holding a glass of what could only be assumed as scotch with two feet propped up on the coffee table was none other than Tony Stark. Famous - or infamous depending on how you looked at it - genius, philanthropist, billionaire, playboy. Sitting on his couch.

Talking to his father.

 _Shit._

Peter quickly felt all the air leave his lungs as he instantly clammed up, brain shutting down as he stared at the billionaire currently staring at him. A moment or two of awkward silence passed between the three of them before Tony cleared his throat, setting his feet back onto the floor as he sat up. "Well, look who finally decided to show up." He rose up from his seat, straightening out the buttoning on his suit. "Mr. Parker." He greeted with a cool smile and a slight nod of his head.

Peter watched as his father rose up to his feet as well, the motion seeming to snap him out of his trance as he shakily cleared his throat, swallowing the bile he could feel rising up as a nervous smile worked its way onto his face. "Umm...h-hey." He stuttered out idiotically. _Hey? HEY? Tony frikkin Stark is standing right across from you and all you can say is HEY?! God, you're such a dumbass!_

He cleared his throat again before trying once more. "W-what...what are you... uh...doing h-here?" He finally choked out, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

"Well, I believed it was about time we met." The man said casually, swirling the golden-colored liquid around his glass. "You've been getting my emails haven't you?" He asked, turning to stare at the boy.

Upon hearing his words, Peter could honestly say he was utterly confused. _Emails?_ What emails? Why the hell would Tony Stark be emailing him? He was about to refute the man's words and declare he'd made some sort of mistake, only to watch as Tony gave a discreet wink, a knowing smile spreading onto his face as he stared at the kid.

Now Peter wasn't exactly what most would call _observant_ , but he knew a signal when he saw one. Hell, he was the master of silent speaking. After all, how else are you supposed to get your messages across when you're barely ever allowed to open your mouth.

Speaking of...

Peter quickly stole a glance over to his father. Richard's face was pulled back into a cool smile, but Peter knew his father well enough to see when he was hiding his annoyance, if the man's twitching fingers told him anything. Whatever Stark was playing at, he obviously didn't approve. But...

Peter quickly nodded his head. "Y-yeah, yeah...the...t-the emails r-regarding the..uh..."

"The September Foundation."

"The _September_ Foundation," Peter repeated."R-right, right..." At least, he _hoped_ he was doing this right.

Tony took a small sip from his glass before setting it back down on the coffee table. "Yeah, remember when you applied?" He asked, not bothering to wait for a reply. "Well, I approved. You're in, kid." He smirked, sending another wink the kid's way, though he was sure by now the boy was already in the know. "So...now we're in business."

Peter opened his mouth to reply, only to jump at his father's sudden movements, the man having stooped down to grab both his and Tony's glasses. "So, Peter..." He said evenly, voice calm and collected (at least enough to fool Tony), "Any particular reason for why you decided to hide this from me?" He asked, walking over to the bar and depositing the glasses in the small sink. "I mean, this is pretty big and instead of hearing it from my own son, I have to hear it from our city's resident billionaire."

Instantly feeling the familiar cold claw of dread squeezing around his heart, Peter quickly tried to squash it down as he fought to come up with a suitable lie that would fool the man. Luckily, Tony seemed to notice the boy's nervousness as he walked over. "Ah, don't pluck the kid too harshly. This particular grant is a lot more private than our other ones considering it's so hands-on and personal, so when kids apply, they usually keep it on the down low, at least until something's guaranteed." He explained, a sense of twisted pride welling up at how much he nailed that on-the-spot lie.

Peter quickly shut his mouth and nodded his head vigorously.

Richard glanced between the two of them for a moment before nodding his head as well. "I see." He stated simply, lowering his head as he turned on the faucet, a steady stream of water falling into the glasses in his hands. A smile broke into his face as he turned back to them. "Well Peter, I must say I'm pleasantly surprised. Though, I suppose I shouldn't be. After all, I know you're always working hard."

"Yes, well I'm sure that's to be expected from the son of one of the most prominent scientists in the field of genome evolution and adaptation. I must say, I read a few of your papers. Your work was pretty impressive, and it takes a lot to impress me." Tony quipped, placing his hands into his pockets as he turned to glance at Peter. "I guess that's a lot to live up to, huh kid." He asked, Peter's shoulders tensing as he gave a stiff nod.

Richard gave a small chuckle. "Yes well, while I'll admit my work does take up a considerable amount of my time, I'm still very proud of you, Peter. I'm sure you've earned this." He mused before focusing back in on cleaning the glasses.

"Speaking of which," Tony continued, raising up his hands as he gestured to the boy next to him. "You think I can speak to Peter alone for a second?"

Richard nodded his head. "Of course. Peter, show Mr. Stark to your room. You can talk about whatever you need in there."

"Yes, sir." Peter uttered quietly, his voice seeming to take on a sort of monotonous, mechanical tone as he hesitantly grabbed his backpack and hastily slung it over his shoulder before picking up the DVD player and shuffling over to the stairs, Tony following close behind.

As the footfall of their steps slowly tricked down into silence, Richard turned away from the hall and back down to the glasses, the rushing of the water now the only sound in the room.

His fingers curled around the last remaining cup tightly until the glass suddenly gave way, shattering into dozens of pieces. Richard didn't even flinch as the glass sliced his finger open. He merely watched as the water ran across the wound, washing the blood off of the skin and down into the drain below.

 **. . . . .**

Peter felt his fingers twitching at his sides as he watched Tony Stark enter his room. Considering the man had asked to speak to the boy in private led Peter to assume that what they were about to discuss had not been brought to the attention of his father, so there was at least some good news. However, if Tony wanted them to have _uninterrupted_ privacy, they'd have to find somewhere else. After all, the lock on his door had been removed ages ago and...

Tony casually reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangular device. Pressing it flat against the door, it instantly latched on and expanded. metal bands quickly extended outwards, attaching to the wall next to the door, effectively bolting it shut.

 _Welp . . . I-I . . . . . . . .alright . . ._

"Well..." Tony huffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Your father seems like quite an . . . _interesting_ man."

Peter folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, he's interesting all right." He mumbled under his breath, missing the way Tony's smirk grew, if only slightly.

Any sense of exasperation quickly phased out of his body as he watched Tony mill about his room, nervousness quickly taking its place. After all, there were _plenty_ of secrets stashed in the room, many of which were threatened just by the man's mere presence.

Tony, however, was in a much different mental state. After all, he already knew every secret the boy had . . . . . . . . _almost._

The billionaire stared down at the boy's desk, taking note of the various VCRs, DVD players and other old, probably abandoned sets of machinery. Each and every one had been cracked open, various chips and wires strewn about the desk. "So...you've been busy." He commented, plucking a small wired chip up off from the messy table, Peter tensing slightly at the action. "Where'd you get this crap anyway?" Tony asked, glancing back at the kid. "Something tells me most kids aren't lining up at the nearest game station to buy this junk."

Peter merely shrugged his shoulders. "You'd be surprised the kind of stuff you find in the trash."

"You're a _dumpster diver?"_

"Well, I-i don't...I mean I-" Quickly feeling his face flush from what he could assume to be either nervousness or just plain embarrassment, Peter quickly folded his arms across his chest defensively and shook his head. "Okay, umm...L-listen, I _know_ I didn't s-sign up for...for a-any grant or-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Tony snapped sharply, waving his hand for added effect. "Me first."

"O-okay..."

Peter watched with batted breath as Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone that could make his look like a bar of soap that'd been colored in with a sharpie. "Quick question of the rhetorical variety..." Tapping his fingers across the device, a small holographic screen materialized above the surface, facing out towards Peter. The video displayed on the projection was enough to make Peter's heart stop altogether, the words Tony uttered next completely obliterating it.

"That's you, isn't it?"

The video showed a suspicious man walking up to the side windows of a car, only for a masked man dressed in red and blue to swing out from the corner of the screen. A strange line shot out towards the man, wrapping around his ankles and dragging him to the ground as the masked figure swung back out of frame. But not before the video paused right as his face flashed next to the camera, revealing a red hoodie with large black goggles.

Peter's eyes trailed from the hologram up to meet Tony's, if only for a second before he corrected his mistake and averted his gaze back to his _much_ more interesting bed. Despite the way his throat felt like it was being squeezed shut, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his voice could still work. "Uhh, no. No, what do you...what do you mean?"

"Yeah..." Tony corrected before switching to another video, this one showing the same masked figure zooming in front of a speeding car. "...yeah, look at you go." Quickly landing on the ground, the figure caught the vehicle before it could slam into the side of a fully-loaded bus.

"Whoa, nice catch." The man mused. "Three thousand pounds, forty miles an hour?" He flipped the phone and quickly retracted the hologram, pointing the end of the device at Peter. "That's not easy. Guess you have a bit of skill, huh kid?" He asked.

Peter quickly took a step forward, eyes staying locked on the ground as he stared at the phone currently resting on his desk. He could feel the blood pumping in his hears and the quick erratic beats of his heart, which were so loud he felt his teeth would soon begin to chatter. Nevertheless, he strained to maintain a cool, calm composure.

"Well I mean, y-you found that all on YouTube though, r-right?" He asked, glancing over at the man before staring back down at the phone. "I mean, that's where you found it? Cause you know that's all fake." He rambled, never noticing the way Tony rolled his eyes and began to mill around his room. As he scanned the bedroom, his eyes fell upon the thin, barely noticeable lines etched into the side of the bed headboard, creating a long vertical rectangle.

"Like, that's all done on the computer. It's like that video-"

"Uh huh, you mean like those UFOs over Phoenix?" Tony called out as the kid continued to mumble, tracing his fingers over the lines before he pressed his thumb into the center of the rectangle. The entire piece pushed in slightly before extending outwards from the headboard, revealing a secret compartment containing what the billionaire could honestly say to be the most ghastly costume he'd ever seen. "Well what do we have here?" He asked as Peter rushed forward, thrusting his arm into the compartment before ripping the pile of clothes out, tossing them into the open closet in the span of a few seconds.

"It's uh...umm..." Peter fumbled for something, _anything_ to say that might save his ass, but realizing any words would probably just go against him, the boy decided to simply shut his mouth and stare down at the ground. He couldn't even hear his heart anymore it was beating so fast, not to mention he'd completely lost all feeling in his legs.

 _Super_.

"So..." Tony sighed, turning to face the boy. "You're the Spider. . . . ling. Crime-fighting Spider. Spider-Boy?" He milled through a quick list of possibilities, waiting for the teen to correct him.

Peter's fingers twitched against his arm as he debated whether or not to confirm Tony's thoughts or continue to deny them. Then again, if he simply stopped talking, there was a chance the man would get angry with him. And if he made Tony Star angry, chances were his father would not take too kindly to that. In fact, it would probably make the man angry too.

He couldn't chance _that._ The mere thought alone had Peter's voice return, if slightly strained and stuttered. "S-Spider-Man."

Tony merely rolled his eyes. "Not in that onesie, you're not."

For some reason, the comment made Peter twitch in annoyance as he stole a glance. "It's not a onesie." He muttered as he walked past the man and back over to the desk. Noticing how some of the circuit chips were out of line, he reached down and quietly adjusted them, straightening them out once more. "Can't believe this." He muttered softly. "You know, I was having a really good day today, Mr. Stark. Didn't miss my train. This perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there, and algebra test..." He tapped the end of a screwdriver down onto the desk. "...nailed it." He sighed before falling quiet once more, not wishing to offend the man with his comments. Silence was better. Silence was always better. Silence was safety.

Tony regarded the boy in front of him for a moment before opening his mouth once more. "Who else knows? Anybody?" He asked, watching as Peter glanced over at him before lowering his head once more, giving a small, barely noticeable shake of his head. "Nobody." He whispered.

"Not even your... _exceptionally_ wonderful father?" Tony joked, only to take a step back as Peter quickly closed the distance between them.

"You CANNOT tell him! He _can't_ know about this! He can _never_ know about this." Peter practically screamed, eyes glazing over in unadulterated terror. "About the crime-fighting, about the powers. He can't know _any_ of it! _They_ can't know any of it!" He stepped away and began to pace back and forth in front of the man, wrapping his arms around himself. "If he finds out I've been lying to him this entire time, he'd _kill_ me!" He cried before something Tony couldn't identify seemed to cloud over the boy's eyes, his arms falling back down to his sides. "...figuratively speaking." He whispered, the words barely even audible anymore.

For a moment, Tony simply stood there, seemingly frozen. From the second he'd laid eyes on Peter, he'd instantly gotten a good sense of the kid. He was obviously shy and soft-spoken. Just his body language, the way he constantly fidgeted with his fingers and always wrapped his arms around himself in a seemingly defensive way told Tony the kid was nervous, _a lot_. He also seemed to be very hesitant to speak, as if the act alone would get him in trouble. In fact, Tony hadn't seen the kid make eye contact with him for more than five seconds before he looked away in . . . _fear?_

And yet, somehow the kid had managed to do a complete 180, staring Tony in the eyes, albeit while pure terror clouded his own. However, it was the cause of that terror that made Tony tense.. . .

The whole thing left a bad taste in Tony's mouth. However, knowing he'd come here with a single goal, he quickly tried to refocus back on the mission. He cleared his throat and glanced back over at the boy, who was staring down at the ground looking as if he'd much rather be in the middle of a pool infested with radioactive sharks. "You know what I think it really cool?" He called, Peter not even bothering to look at him. "This webbing." He lifted his arm and flicked the small metallic casing over to the boy, who caught it without even lifting his eyes. "Tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?" He asked.

Peter let out a small sigh and reluctantly lifted up his head, fingering the cold casing in his palm. "I did." He mumbled before tossing the case into his closet, where it effortlessly flopped into his hamper. "What do you think all this stuff's for?" He pointed down to the scrapped parts and loose wires of the machines strewn about his desk.

Tony sat down on the computer chair resting next to the boy's dresser, reaching back into the closet to pull out the kid's suit. "Climbing the walls?" He called. "How are you doing that? Adhesive gloves?" He asked as he ran his fingers over the sewn material of the boy's costume, searching for any clues as to how the boy was doing what he was doing.

Peter bit the bottom of his lip and turned away. "It's...uh...i-it's a long...long story." He mumbled.

"Lordy!" Peter jumped at Tony's cry. The man was currently holding the two bulky goggles attached to the face of his costume. "Can you even see in these things?!" He asked, Peter quickly yanking the costume out of his hands as the man mocked him, cheeks burning red as he opened up the compartment in his headboard, thrusting the suit back inside.

"Yes! Yes, I can see, thank you very much!" He growled, glaring over at the man before quickly realizing he'd overstepped his bounds. "S-sorry! I'm...I-I'm...sorry." He whispered before rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just that. . . . when whatever happened happened . . . ." He tried to find a way to explain what he could barely even understand himself. "It's like my senses have been dialed up to eleven, you know? There's just...there's way too much input for me. So, these...they just help...help me focus, is...is all." He finished quietly as he sat down on his bed, hoping the man wouldn't get angry at his outburst from before.

Tony stared at the kid currently fiddling with his fingers, small curls falling into his eyes. The man let out a sigh as he shook his head. "You're in dire need of an upgrade, kid." He muttered. "Systemic, top to bottom. 100-point restoration." He explained. "That's why I'm here."

Peter felt his eyebrows furrow at that. Tony Stark was one of the most famously-known people out there. His company was one of the biggest in the world, he was a part of the most well-known superhero team ever. All in all, he was a pretty busy guy, Peter would guess. So why the hell did he care about some no-named, stupid kid running around playing vigilante? Why the hell did he care about _him?_

"Why are you doing this?"

The man's next words jostled him from his thoughts, his head rising to look at the man for a brief moment.

"I got to know." Tony elaborated. "What gets you out of this room in the morning. No, actually...better question. Why the _hell_ is your room so clean? You're what...fourteen?! Shouldn't you have...I don't know...piles of clothes mixed with half-eaten apples and finger painting sets strewn about all over?" He asked. After all, the only _"mess"_ he could detect in the room was the pile of tech on the boy's desk.

"Finger pain...? What kind of kids have _you_ been hanging around?"

"I don't know. It's not like I have much practice with this kind of stuff. You really think I look like the kind of guy that lurks around daycare centers all day long?" Tony muttered before his eyes widened slightly. "...that came out wrong."

Peter couldn't help the small chuckle that spilled from his lips at that, Tony quickly taking notice. "Oh, so you _do_ smile. And here I thought your face muscles couldn't do such a thing. What are they, out of practice or something?" He joked.

The kid smiled softly before glancing back up at the man, noticing the way he was staring at him. Quickly realizing he was still expecting an answer, Peter let out a small sigh and stared back down at his fingers. For a moment, Tony wondered whether the boy would simply refuse to answer, but after a moment, Peter let out a small chuckle.

"You know, everyone around here has heard of the Avengers. I mean, after that crazy battle here a couple years ago, you'd have to try really, really hard to stay oblivious you know?" He asked, not bothering to wait for a response. "People nowadays know about superheroes." He continued. "About those _amazing_ people with _amazing_ powers and _amazing_ lives. And...and you'd think that having people like that out there...people to _protect_ you out there...you'd feel safe. You think...'nothing bad is going to happen. We have people watching out for us. _Strong_ people. _Good_ people."

He paused, the smile quickly slipping off of his face. "But. . . . . every day, there's a bank being robbed, there's a guy being mugged, there's a girl getting raped. There's . . . _someone_ who needs help, who's _praying_ for help, for...for _someone_ to just...scoop them up and...and take them away from it all . . ." He paused, his face taking on a pained look before he continued. ". . . but it never comes."

Tony could only sit and stare at the boy as he continued, the words rendering him silent. Speechless.

"You start to wonder...how...how people with such powers and such amazing skills...could just... _sit by_ and do... _nothing_ while you're suffering right under their noses. If...if they can do such great things...if they can save the world over and over and _over_ again . . . . then why couldn't they save you?" He paused, Tony making out the way Peter's chest seemed to heave slightly before his breathing evened out.

"It's then that you finally realize the truth. In the grand scheme of things, when it comes to people who have made it there job to save the world from harm . . . . . . you don't matter. . . . . You're not important enough to be saved."

Peter stared down at his hands, the fact that they were shaking never dawning on him, neither was the fact that he was basically insulting the Avengers in front of one of its most prominent members.

"That's why I do this." Peter finally said. "So those people who think they're alone know there's someone out there who's with them. So those people who...who are scared know there's someone there to protect them. So those people who think..." He swallowed thickly before continuing. "...who think they'll never be saved know there's someone there to look out for them...there's someone that _cares_ about them."

Tony narrowed his eyes as he took in the boy before him, letting his words sink in as Peter glanced up at him.

"Cause...cause those people down there..." He gestured over to the window. "Those people who work from sunrise to sunset...those people who wake up every morning, have breakfast with there family and kiss their loved ones goodbye as they go to work or...or to school. . . . . . those people like _me_. . . . . . they don't need someone to save the _entire_ world. . . . . . . . they just need someone to save theirs."

Peter let out a small shaky breath as he finished, surprised with himself for making it through the entire shpeal without freaking out or anything. In fact, he actually felt...good. In all honesty, when he'd first begun his little vigilante escapades, he'd been a little unsure. After all, did the benefits of doing this really outweigh the risks.

But . . . . after sharing his reasons . . . after solidifying why he did this _not just_ to Tony Stark, but also to himself . . . . he'd never felt more sure of his actions than he did right at that moment. He'd never been so sure that _Spider-Man_ was, in fact, something he needed not just for himself, but also for New York.

Quickly realizing he was _not_ the only person in the room, Peter instantly tensed up once again, especially when the weight of what he'd said began to catch up with him. _Holy shit . . . . . I just insulted the Avengers to someone who could basically wipe me off the face of the Earth both physically and legally!_ He thought frantically to himself as he refused to make eye contact with the man, lest he catch a glimpse of the undoubtedly present fury in the man's eyes.

Tony, however, exuded none of that fury that Peter assumed he would. If anything, the man was slightly. . . . _impressed._ Who knew a kid so young could actually . . . . understand such difficult concepts? And not just that, but also try and figure out the solution to said concepts. Albeit he was a little rough around the edges if his suit said anything, the kid's heart was still in the right place. And Tony begrudgingly had to admit that that was enough for him. "So . . . . you wanna look out for the little guy, you wanna...do your part . . . . make the world a better place, all that right?" Tony asked.

Peter glanced up at the man in surprise, relieved he wasn't mad, but still... _surprised_. Nevertheless, he gave a small nod and turned his attention back to his twiddling fingers.

Tony let out a sigh as he slowly lifted himself up out of the chair and made his way over to Peter. Walking across the large room, he stopped beside the kid's bed before slowly lowering himself down on it, noticing the way Peter's muscles instantly tensed, though his eyes stayed glued to his fingers. Tony lifted his arm hesitantly, wondering whether or not such a move was wise before deciding to just go for it.

Peter flinched violently as Tony's hand came to rest on his shoulder, the man rearing back slightly out of shock before coming to rest gently on the boy's arm once again. Peter's body stood stiff and rigid as he fought to keep his breathing under control at the physical contact. That had never been one of his strong suits. Though he knew better than to try and fight Tony Stark on such a trivial matter. As long as Peter was Peter and Tony Stark was Tony Stark, the billionaire could do whatever the hell he wanted to. That's just how things went with the kid. He knew better than to try and fight such things anymore.

Finally, after a moment passed where the kid realized no harm would fall upon him, Peter's body relaxed enough to the point where it didn't resemble a dried out piece of driftwood. Though he could still tell the boy was tense, Tony continued nonetheless.

"Got a passport?"

"Uhh . . . . umm, no. N-no...I don't...I don't even have a driver's license"

"You ever been to Germany?"

Where the heck was he going with this?

"Uhh...no?"

"Oh you'll love it!"

 _Whaa-!_ Peter reared back, Tony's hand slipping from his shoulder, much to his relief. "I can't go to Germany!" He exclaimed loudly.

"Why not?" Tony asked, as if the notion genuinely confused him. Oh, pshhh! Sure! To someone like Tony Stark, a trip halfway around the world was nothing. He probably did it every other weekend. But for Peter . . . . traveling so far, for so long, with _strangers_ , without his f-

"I...I-I..." Peter stuttered out, now much more unsure of himself. "I got...homework." _God, you're an idiot._

Tony seemed to think the same exact thing as he shook his head. "Alright, I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that." He muttered as he rose up from the bed, ignoring Peter's sputtering protests, knowing full well the kid actually wanted to go. He was merely trying to keep up with the facade. Still, Tony just needed one more thing to confirm that Peter was really who they needed...

"It'll probably be a little dangerous. Better tell _World's Greatest Dad_ that-"

The words were cut from his throat as he watched Peter spring up to his feet faster than humanly possible, thrusting his arm forward as a line of webbing flew outward, wrapping around Tony's hand and effectively trapping him to the door handle.

The billionaire stared down at the sight before lifting his gaze back over to Peter, who for the first time since he'd met him was now staring Tony straight in the eyes, a determined look adorning his face. He slowly lifted up his finger, pointing it threateningly at the man before him. " _Don't_ tell my father." He growled out.

Tony leveled a stare at the kid, his confirmation now staring him dead in the eyes. _This_ was the kid he was looking for. "Alright, Spider-Man." He said calmly. In the back of his mind, he knew bringing a fourteen-year-old kid along on what could only be assumed to be an _incredibly_ dangerous mission probably _wasn't_ the best of plans, but he'd run out of options. Besides, the kid needed _something_ to help him out in his endeavors, who was to say Tony couldn't be that something, if only for a little while.

"Get me out of this."

"So-sorry...sorry!"

In the end, he knew he probably wouldn't worry about it too much. The kid would get a new suit and he'd get a new recruit. Win-win. Perfect. After this was all over, he'd drop the kid back home, give him the suit permanently and be on his merry way, undoubtedly forgetting the kid after a few weeks. After all, this would simply be a one-time thing. Get in. Get out. Meet the kid. Help the kid. Forget the kid.

It'd be simple...

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

 _...right?_

* * *

 **Oh, Tony, Tony, Tony. You better buckle up, bro! Cause you're in for a SHITSHOW! WHOOOOO!**

 **Anywhoo...it's been a while, my fishies! How've you been? How's life? JK I couldn't care less about the success or suffering of others. I know, I'm a ravishing creature with such loving qualities. Maybe that's why everyone in my stories wishes for the sweet embrace of death. :l**

 **Boo-boo-doo! Who's ready for a new story?! (They said while simultaneously having a shit-ton of unfinished stories) Shhhh...we'll discuss that later. Don't ruin my new story excitement! Don't do it!**

 **Anyways, I'm taking a break from DC and crossovers and simply doing a good old Marvel fanfic with my precious bahboo, Peter Parker. Yes, shocking! They like Sider-Man! OOOO!**

 **Yeah, yeah, anyways, this is set up with the Spider-Man Homecoming Universe, if the dialogue from this scene didn't already give it away. BTW sorry for the format of this chapter. I don't usually like using in-movie dialogue or using movie scenes. I like making up my own stuff, but I felt this would be a good prologue set-up, so I just used this to introduce you guys to this story and get a feel for how I'll do these characters. Also, if any of you are hoping for me to write about the Civil War fight SIT DOWN, FUCKERS!**

 **...**

 **...**

 **please don't actually leave, fuckers...**

 **Sorry, but the next chapter will actually take place right after Peter gets back from Germany. It'll be a play on the car scene with him and Tony, and that'll about wrap up any and all scenes that tie into Homecoming and/or any other MCU movies. Everything else will be completely original.**

 **ALRIGHT! now for the main thing. Don't know if any of you noticed but...**

 **PETER'S DAD IS ALIVE!**

 **Shocking I know. I'm just a little tired of reading stories where it's just him and his aunt, so I wanted to shake things up a bit. In this universe, it's just him and his father as the last remaining blood-ties and May and Ben don't exist...or do they? (more will be explained as time moves forward)**

 **I would also like to add a little disclaimer *ahem*...I DON'T HATE MY FATHER! I promise I don't. You'll understand more if you've read Under the Wings and also if you continue reading this story, which I really hope you do cause I'm super excited about it!**

 **anybooo... please enjoy my latest story. I'm so excited I'm ...** ** _climbing the walls!_**

 ** _MMMMMmmhhhh! FUNNNNYYYYY JOKKKKKEEEEEEE! (any who understand this reference will receive a smiley face)_**


	2. Shock

**Chapter 2: Shock**

* * *

 **Sunday - March 6, 2016**

 **Queens, NY - Jackson Ave - en route to Parker Residence**

 **07:46 p.m.**

Colors blurred into one another as the car sped down the road. Peter barely had any time to register one building before it was instantly replaced with another. Normally, watching shapes and forms bleed into one another calmed the teen down, the rhythmic movements of the cars matched with the steady stream outside the window settling his nerves. However, the opposite was true today. Though it wasn't the ride itself that was the cause, it was the destination.

For the first time in three days, Peter could honestly say he was extremely nervous . . . which wouldn't be too odd if not for the fact that he was coming back from Berlin, where he'd gone to fight the frikkin Avengers! Granted it was only half but the point still stands.

Peter still hadn't found a way to fully process it. When Mr. Stark had plucked him out of his house that Friday afternoon, he knew whatever they were doing wasn't going to be normal, especially considering the fact that the man was strangely focused on his alter-ego.

He had not, however, expected the man to drag him along on a mission to stop the Avengers.

Like, he could have _at least_ dropped a hint or something.

Nevertheless, Peter had been incredibly excited. Not nervous. Excited. After all, it wasn't Peter who would be meeting off against Captain America and the rogue Avengers. It would be Spider-Man. The super strong, courageous, smart-mouthed hero that leaped into danger head-first and wasn't afraid of anything. _That_ was who Mr. Stark had needed. Not Peter.

Nobody needed Peter.

The experience had been.. . . . strange, to say the least. In all honesty, Peter had actually been hoping for Mr. Stark to convince them _not_ to fight at all. Granted, fighting the Avengers would be(and was) awesome, something in Peter didn't really like the idea of having to fight people he'd considered his heroes for the longest time.

The tensions throughout had been so palpable it was hard not to be affected. He'd grown up watching newscasts and reports on how the Avengers saved the day time and time again, stopping the bad guys and thwarting evil plots.

But now Peter was just supposed to accept that his heroes _were_ the bad guys now? He was just supposed to _accept_ the fact that the team he'd grown to adore was now nothing but splintered fragments?

So yeah...fighting wasn't really what he'd been hoping for.

Still, he had kind of expected it to go to shit in the end. Things always did if you gave them enough time. So, after a quick mental hyping, Peter had swallowed his doubt and hesitation and tried to do what Mr. Stark needed him to do.

In the end, he felt like he did okay. He was especially proud of the fact that he was able to keep up with Captain America, at least for a little while. He could tell the man held back, and if he was being honest, he could honestly say he did the same. After all, he hadn't really wanted to hurt the man. He'd never wanted to hurt anyone before, especially not one of his heroes.

During the fight, Peter did have to admit that he had been a little intimidated by their opponents at the start. These were trained soldiers and assassins while he was just a lanky kid in spandex . . . alright, _high-tech_ spandex. But that was the _beauty_ of Spider-Man. _He_ could simply use his nerves to his advantage, rambling on about the most random things, distracting his opponents long enough to get the upper hand.

Spide-Man never had to worry about watching his mouth or ticking people off. In fact, if his opponent wasn't fully annoyed and flustered by the time their fight ended, it was considered a failure. Still, even after the fight when everyone had scattered, Peter had _still_ been trying to reign in his excitement.

That is until he saw Mr. Stark after his return from Siberia.

At least...that's where he thought they'd gone. Mr. Stark had never really explained it to him afterward. Still, though he didn't see what happened _specifically_ , he got a pretty good sense when he met up with the man before returning to New York.

His arm was in a cast, his face was cut and stitched up in some places, and his eyes were sporting two matching sets of bags underneath. But the thing that Peter recognized right away was the look _in_ the man's eyes. That look of despair, of depression and suffering.

Peter was all too familiar with that look.

However, the man had been quick to brush off Peter's concerned questions and plaster on a fake smile, assuring everyone around him that he was fine, that they had nothing to worry about.

Yep...Peter was familiar with that too.

Realizing the man probably did not wish to talk about what had occurred, Peter quickly let it drop, not wanting to overstep his bounds. The rest of their trip, from the plane to the car, had been filled with silence. After all, Peter had _way_ too many things swirling around his mind to even _consider_ speaking, not that it was something he was comfortable with anyway.

Now that their mission was over, what was Mr. Stark going to do with him? Sure, he'd promised not to tell his father, but to actually take his word for it meant that Peter would have to trust the man, and that was a definite _no-no._ Who knew what would happen in the future? What if Mr. Stark ever got angry or annoyed with him? What if he decided to use his secret as leverage? As blackmail?

Peter briefly wondered how his father would react if he found out about his being Spider-Man.

The thought made a chill run up his spine, shivers racking his entire frame.

The kid was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he completely forgot he wasn't the only one in the car, at least not until Tony placed a hand on his shoulder . . . . well, _tried to_ anyway.

Peter let out a choked gasp as he jerked to the side, wild eyes flinging towards the danger, only to stare back at Stark. "Jesus, kid!" The man grunted. "What the _hell_ is up with you? You're acting like you're planning to murder the President or something." He muttered, giving the boy a strange look.

Peter sucked in a shaky breath before trying to place a smile on his face, though he was sure it resembled more of a grimace. "S-s-sorry...I-I'm j-just...just a l-little tired..." He trailed off, eyes sinking to the car floor.

Tony stared at the kid, eyes narrowed as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "You know, I can't get a good read on you kid." He stated out of the blue, Peter jerking slightly out of surprise at the spontaneous statement. "W-what do you...what do you mean?" He asked hesitantly.

"I mean..." He started, pulling the sunglasses off of his face, "...you're . . . . _weird."_ He mused. Peter blinked up at him in confusion before the man continued. "Now don't get me wrong, being weird's not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, I've made billions by being what some might call 'sporadic and irresponsible' while I simply like to call it 'imaginative creativity at the expense of others'" He stated casually.

Peter couldn't help the small chuckle that fell from his mouth at that.

"And yet..." Tony continued. "you're just . . . . well, I mean...you're . . . . _weird,_ kid! I don't know how else to phrase this."

"I don't t-think I understand, Mr. Stark. Is it a...bad _weird_ or..."

Tony turned his head to stare at the kid. If he was being honest, _weird_ wasn't enough to describe how strange the kid was. Upon first meeting him, it seemed like the kid was mere inches away from a panic attack every time he opened his mouth. He was reclusive, quiet, nervous. He never seemed to want to voice what he was thinking. He just ducked his head, lowered his gaze and shut his mouth, almost as if he'd been trained to act as such.

It was almost mechanical.

And yet, Spider-Man was a complete 180.

Tony had been able to listen in through the coms while the fight had been commencing in Berlin and _damn!_ That kid never shuts up! It's like he was in a constant state of _verbal-barfing_. Every single thought that popped into his brain had to pop right _out_ of his mouth. It was like the kid had no filter. He just said whatever came to mind with no fear of anger or annoyance. In fact, it was almost as if the kid was hoping to elicit such responses.

And now that the fight was over, now that the mask was off, Peter Parker had returned and that spunky, energetic little part of him had been shut off, replaced by those mechanical emotions and responses.

It was... well it was...

Actually, Tony didn't know _how_ he felt about it.

After a moment, he realized the kid was still staring at him, waiting for his answer. Another second passed before Tony turned to face forward once more.

"I don't know yet."

Peter gazed at the man worriedly, wondering whether or not he'd done something wrong. But after a moment, he just decided to drop it and go back to staring out the window. He already had enough things to stress over. He did _not_ need to add any more to the list.

Tony glanced over at Peter and from the corner of his eye could make out the teen staring out the window solemnly, resting his cheek on the side of his fist. _Alright, so...maybe not the best conversation._ Tony mused to himself. But what could he expect? It wasn't like he was _good with kids or anything!_ There was a reason Tony made sure to keep as much distance between him and impressionable young minds as possible without a thoroughly vetted written script in front of him.

Children were a foreign concept to him. After all, you can't just reprogram a malfunctioning kid.

He stole one last glance at the kid before placing his glasses back onto his face. _He'll be fine._ He muttered to himself. After all, he had bigger problems than worrying about whether or not he hurt some kid's feelings.

The drive lasted longer than Tony had anticipated, or desired. After a few sharp exchanges between the man and Happy on which route is better while Peter sat back in the awkwardness, they finally arrived at the kid's place.

The three-story townhouse was on the corner of the busy street, dark wooden paneling combining with strong concrete shapes, creating a modern feel and sharp design. Large windows adorned most of the walls while the top story consisted of almost nothing _but_ the glass panels. Down at the bottom, the floor of the second story extended outwards, two columns rising up from the floor to meet it. Underneath the outcrop it created sat a row of many cars.

Tony turned as he heard Peter groan softly at the sight.

"Company?" The man asked with a small smirk. If he'd picked up anything from the kid these past few days, it was that he probably wasn't too comfortable with other people.

" _Live-in_ company." Peter replied quietly, to which Tony narrowed his eyes. "Live-in?" He repeated.

Peter nodded his head. "Some of my father's . . . . _friends_ stay with us. They live on the first and second floors." The kid explained. "My friend and I usually just call them the Cons." He muttered.

"And that's because . . . . .?"

"Cause more than half of them have served over five years in prison." Peter groaned in a strained tone of voice, something Tony was quick to pick up on. "Uh-huh..." He replied, glancing back out the window only to notice a group of people sitting on the steps leading up to the front door of the house. "And uh...am I to assume that's them?" He called over to Peter, who craned his neck to gaze out the window as well.

Tony counted four adults, three men, and a woman. And he didn't like the looks of _any_ of them.

Two men sat on the top step. One was large and bulky with short brown hair and a green striped shirt. Even though he was sitting, it was obvious the man was well over six feet tall. His hands were large and calloused, his face hard and menacing. The man next to him wasn't as tall or as muscular, but the malicious smile plastered on his face was enough to warrant caution. His eyes were small and beady and his face was pale and sickly, bony fingers tapping against his knee rhythmically.

Leaning up against the door was a woman with jet-black hair that matched her jacket and stretched down to mid-back, contrasting her pale complexion. Sharp blue eyes stood out, as well as the cruel smirk that adorned her lips as she chatted to the others. Her eyes fluttered between each of the men, sharp nails curling around her crossed arms.

Finally, standing by the bottom was one final man dressed in a loosely buttoned black shirt that revealed toned, dark-colored muscles underneath, a multitude of rings adorning his fingers. His face was littered with numerous scars and his eyes shifted dangerously between each of the others.

Safe to say, they _all_ gave Tony uneasy vibes. Apparently, Peter too, for the kid let out an audible groan as he slid down in his seat.

"So they seem . . . interesting..." Tony joked, only for Peter to shut his eyes tightly and run a shaky hand through his mop of curls. Tony glanced down at the obviously-panicking teen, stealing one last look at the group, appropriately nicknamed _Cons_ before leaning forward to address his driver. "Hey, Happy. Think you can give me and the kid a second?"

The man twisted around in the seat and gave Tony an incredulous look. "You want me to leave the car?"

"Very much so, please. Oh, and you can go ahead and get Peter's case out of the trunk."

Peter instantly froze at that, Happy letting out a grumble as he opened up his door and stepped outside, slamming it shut with a little more force than needed. The kid didn't seem to notice, however, as his eyes stayed locked onto Tony. "I-I get...I get to keep t-the suit?" He whispered out.

"Well yeah. It's not like it fits me. Besides, the red and gold suit is enough already. I don't know how the public would react if I suddenly traded it in for red and blue _spandex_." He muttered.

"I don...I-I...but you...and I-"

"What's so hard to believe about this, if I may ask?" Tony said, cutting the kid off from his stutter-fest, knowing they might have been there for a while if he'd let it play out.

Peter furrowed his brow. "Well...I mean...I understand why you g-gave it to me...before. You n-needed some help and...and now that it's f-finished...I just a-assumed that-"

Tony shook his head, holding his hand up. "Look, kid. I gave you the suit to _help_ you. Did it come in handy in Berlin? Sure. But that's not the only reason why I gave it to you." He tried to explain. "I wasn't lying when I said I would help. Ergo, the suit."

Peter continued to stare up at him with wide eyes, the sight quickly making the billionaire uncomfortable as he shook his hands in front of himself. "Look, kid, don't make this any more awkward than it already is. Just take the suit, alright?" He muttered.

This seemed to snap Peter out of his daze as he nodded his head. "Umm...r-right. O-of...of course, M-Mr. Stark...T-thank...thank you." he finally stuttered out, cursing to himself as he felt his tongue trip over the words. Why couldn't he ever just talk normally? _You're such a frikkin idiot!_

Tony glanced over at the kid before nodding his head in satisfaction. Just then, Happy knocked on the window, both turning their heads to look at him as he heaved the case up. "Where's this going again?!" He called through the glass.

"Uhh...I'll go ahead a-and take that. Y-you don't need t-to worry about it." Peter called, Happy nodding as he unceremoniously dropped the case back onto the floor before moving back over to the trunk.

Tony rolled his eyes at the man's antics before his eyes were slowly drawn back over to the Cons still currently chatting amongst themselves on the steps. The uneasy feeling in his gut had yet to go away. In fact, it seemed to have amplified in the few minutes he'd been talking to the kid.

He opened his mouth to speak once again, only to shut it violently, reprimanding himself instantly. There was _no way_ he was thinking of getting involved _!_ No way! This kid was _not_ his problem. He had no reason to burden himself with such a task. Who was he to judge these people? For all he knew, they were the nicest, kindest people on the entire planet. . . . . . e _hh . . . ._ alright, that might have been a bit of a stretch, but Peter could handle them. He'd obviously been doing it for fourteen years and he was fine!

Tony stole a glance over at the kid, who was currently holding his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees.

 _Mostly..._

Still, as he glared out the window at the Cons, the feeling in his stomach _refused_ to go away. There was something. . . . . _wrong_ about all of this. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

No, he couldn't do it. He couldn't deal with something like this...not right now. Not after...after _everything_. He just couldn't do it. This kid _was not_ his problem, and never would be. It didn't matter that those people seemed dangerous. It didn't matter that the kid was obviously afraid. It didn't matter that the boy was actually extremely nice and kind-hearted when he actually dared to speak up. It didn't matter that in the few words they'd shared, it'd become obvious that he was a good kid...

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

Well...it couldn't hurt to just _check, r_ ight?

"Umm...Peter?"

The kid lifted up his head and glanced over at the man, eyes wide and nervous. Tony stared at the boy for a moment, wondering whether or not he should actually go through with this before he finally let out a sigh. "Is everything . . ." He paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Is everything okay?"

He honestly didn't know what to expect. He didn't even know what he _wanted_ to expect, what he wanted the kid to _say._ It was obvious whatever relationship this kid had with his ... "family" was unorthodox, but that didn't necessarily mean it was... _bad,_ did it? Maybe the kid was just the nervous type. Who really knew?

Whatever he'd been expecting Peter to say definitely isn't what he got.

The teen let out a breathy laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay? Y-yeah... _yeah,_ everything's fine. Actually, things are better than fine." He gave a small smile.

"T-this was...I mean it was so...cause like when...and then the stuff with the..." The kid glanced over at Tony and gave a nervous smile. "This w-was really cool, Mr. Stark. A-and I know you...you didn't _have_ to bring m-me along...you d-didn't have to give me a n-new suit...so...so I just...I guess I'm trying to..." He trailed off, a grimace forming on his face before it was replaced with an exasperated look. "I'm not really the best at this in case you can't tell."

Tony couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Really? I hadn't noticed." He mused, Peter cracking a smile as he rubbed his neck, cheeks flushing red. The kid let out a small sigh before turning back to Tony. "But really, Mr. Stark. Just... thank you...f-for...for all of this."

The billionaire stared at the kid for a moment longer before giving a small nod of his head. "Don't mention it." He said in a much softer tone of voice than he'd expected, never registering the fact that the kid had just deflected his original question.

Peter gave a nod of his own before reaching for the car handle, pushing the door open before stepping out. He grabbed hold of the case currently sitting at his feet before glancing back into the open car, giving a small hesitant wave.

For a second, Tony almost returned it.

Almost.

Closing the door behind him, Peter lifted up the case and took a small, shaky breath. Exhaling slowly, he lifted his gaze across the street, where the Cons were still laughing away at whatever inane thing they were discussing. Peter learned to never listen.

Tony watched with a careful eye as Peter made his way across the street, the sound of a shutting door making the man jump slightly. "You ready to go?" Happy asked, glancing over his shoulder. Tony instantly felt his stomach churn slightly as he watched one of the Cons finally take notice of the approaching Peter. "Hold up for a second, Hap." He said softly, rolling down the window to better hear what was being discussed. "Just...hold up."

"Well! Look who's back." The woman chirped as her eyes locked onto the small figure slowly approaching. "It's our little Petey-Bird." She chimed in mock delight, the others letting out soft snorts.

Peter felt his skin crawling as he lowered his gaze to the ground. "H-hey...gu-guys..." He said softly.

"So, you're back from your little Stark boot-camp." The man in the striped shirt snorted. "How'd it go? Was your brain actually able to absorb any inkling of knowledge or did you just sit there like an idiot for three days straight?"

"I'm bettin' more on the second one." The dark-skinned man muttered, the others letting out humored scoffs.

Peter felt the corners of his eyes crinkling as his nervousness grew and his exasperation increased. He just wanted to crawl into his bed and sleep for however long he could until his father dragged him out of bed for morning practices. _God,_ he hated those. But he _so_ did not have the energy to deal with these guys right now.

"Umm...it..i-it was fine. Listen...I-I'm a l-little tired so...so I t-think-"

"Well did you make any friends?" The woman sneered. "As in, were you able to untangle your tongue for longer than five fucking seconds to actually string together a few measly words?"

Peter shuffled his feet nervously. "I...m-met a...a few i-in-interesting people, sure." He murmured.

"Did you miss us, kiddo?" The leaner man asked in an unnerving tone of voice, eyes narrowing as a grin split his face. He reached out and placed his hands on Peter's shoulders, dragging him closer as he rested his head just above the kid's shoulder. "We sure missed you!" He chirped, blatantly ignoring the pained look on Peter's face as he dug his fingers into his skin. "Come on, you had to have missed us a little bit. You did, didn't you? Yeah, this is the face of someone who _really_ missed having us around."

Peter wrenched himself out of the man's grip. "Um...I-I uh..."

The dark-skinned man stalked closer. "How 'bout Stark? Did ya' hang out with your new buddy? Are you guys pen-pals now? You gonna write each other?" He smirked.

"W-well...there were a...a lot of o-other interns there...s-so he was k-kinda bus-"

"Bull!" The lean man chirped in the same chipper voice, though his eyes revealed his suspicions. "Obviously he took quite an interest in you, Petey. After all, your Dad told us he _specifically_ came over to meet with you." He said, his sweet tone contrasting the malicious anger sparking behind his eyes, creating a twisted feeling in Peter's stomach. "You must have done something awfully important to grab the attention of that little weasel." He continued.

The man in the striped shirt nodded. "Yeah, never thought him the type to indulge in charity." He sneered, punching Peter in the arm. "But I mean, that's obviously the case here, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." The woman scoffed. "There's _definitely_ something else behind this." She muttered, waving her hand in the air dismissively. "He probably just saw an opportunity to grub up some more money."

The dark-skinned man narrowed his eyes. "What the hell does a guy like Stark need with money, though? Lord knows the asshole's got enough to buy a country." He rolled his eyes.

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know then! Maybe he wanted to keep tabs on _Labs_. I mean, apart from Oscorp, it's the leading producer in tech manufacturing, meaning it's on his radar of competitors." She waved her hand. "He probably just wanted to keep tabs on Richard through the brat." She explained.

As they argued with each other, Peter silently tried to sneak his way up the steps and through the door, only for the lean man to latch onto his hoodie and drag him backward. "How 'bout _you_ clear this up, Petey..." He said softly, stepping closer. "Just what reason does an important asshat like _Tony Stark_ have for crawling out of his money-pile to meet some spastic little kid like you" He smiled menacingly.

"And more importantly..." The dark-skinned man muttered, wrapping his fingers around Peter's bony arm. "Why the _hell_ didn't we hear about it from you, huh? You trying to hide something?"

"Jesus Christ..." Happy muttered, arm resting on the back of the car seat as he watched the exchange. He glanced back at Tony, who was also watching with a disgruntled frown plastered on his face. To anyone, it would merely seem like he was slightly peeved. But Happy knew the man much to well to think that. He was down-right pissed. "What the hell's up with these assholes?" He asked.

Tony continued to glare out the window. He said nothing.

Peter ducked his head and merely shrugged his shoulders, ripping his arm out of the man's grip, their words making his fingers curl tightly around the metal handle. "I-I ... I guess...I mean...I do-don't really-"

He cleared his throat.

"Maybe w-we can talk a-about this in...in the morn-" He started as he reached towards the door, only for the leaner man to grab onto the back of his hoodie, dragging him back down the steps once again.

A small, shocked yelp escaped the teen as he stumbled against his feet before quickly righting himself. "Come on! What's the rush? We're only curious about how your little trip went." The man sneered, face leaning closer towards the kid's. Peter flinched and turned his head away, sidestepping away from the man, only for his back to run into the chest of another.

"It...it was f-fine, alright." He finally choked out. "There w-was... I mean it was...and there w-was...a... a lot of-"

"What's in the case?"

. . .

. . .

. . .

"W-what?"

The dark-skinned man stepped closer, eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with the kid. "The case." He repeated, gesturing down towards the object Peter was now trying to hide slightly. "What's in it?"

Tony watched on, eyes narrowed, hand poised on the car handle, waiting for the kid to begin floundering as he tried to sputter out a lie. Though he could only blink in shock as Peter merely shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing really interesting. Just a couple of spare parts and blueprints we received to work on later." He answered softly yet convincingly.

The billionaire felt his eyes narrow as he continued to stare at the scene before him. So _you_ can _lie._ Tony mused to himself. _Then why don't you do it more often?_ He wondered, recalling just how terrible the kid had been when lying to _him_. How the hell could he pull a flip like that? What was _with_ this kid?

The lean man narrowed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "So...now what? Was this shit like a one-time thing or something, or are we supposed to expect Stark to keep showing up on our doorstep every other month?" He muttered, glaring down at the kid who was currently using the base of his palm to rub his wrist up and down.

"Actually..." Peter mumbled. "I-I don't...I don't really know. T-the details weren't t-too...specific exactly...s-so I...I don't really k-know when the next...um...next meeting is." He finally muttered out.

The woman rolled her eyes, clearly all forms of fake enthusiasm having run its course through her system. "Ugg...God, you're useless." She mumbled. "You can't give us anything? They seriously didn't tell you shit?"

Peter bit the inside of his cheek. Their annoyance was clearly written on their faces, meaning their moods would soon take a dive along with it. Though he knew he should have expected it. They'd never been big fans of Stark and they _especially_ weren't fans of sudden and unexpected events that weren't planned or accounted for. So, put those two together and you're looking at a shitstorm ready to blow through.

He had to at least give them something.

"W-well...I-I think...I-I mean...I guess t-they-they're...they're trying t-to...ummm-"

"Jesus!" The lean man moaned. "Can you ever go five FUCKING seconds without stuttering like some retard?! Just speak normally, you moron! Go on, spit it out. You're acting like a dying car battery or something." He snarled.

Okay...actually, now Peter kind of missed his mock happiness.

The kid ducked his head, eyes scrunched tightly. _God,_ could they _please_ not do this out here? Usually, they waited until they were safe behind closed doors to actually explode. Guess their mood was _already_ pretty bad. "Umm..." Peter tried to whisper. "...d-do you...do you think maybe w-we can do t-this ins-"

"Just spare parts, huh?"

The kid lifted his eyes up to meet the dark-skinned man's gaze as he leveled a hard look at the kid. "W-what?" He murmured, unprepared for the random question.

The man glanced down at the case. "Just space parts?" He repeated. "That's it?"

Peter glanced down at the case for a second before giving a vigorous nod of his head. "Kid says it's just fuckin' science shit, man." The striped-shirt guy muttered. "What about it?" He asked, the others glancing over as well, wondering what was so interesting about it.

The man, however, didn't seem inclined to let it drop so suddenly. "I'm just curious." He muttered as he stepped closer. Peter, in return, took two steps back, grip tightening around the handle. "Yeah, l-like I said. They're just parts and blueprints f-for a new project that we n-need to start working on." He explained.

The man gazed at the case for a moment longer before giving a curt nod of his head. "Uh-huh..." He murmured before he took another step forward. "Mind if we take a quick look?" He asked.

Peter felt his blood run cold as the others slowly began to rise up to their feet. If they saw what was in this case...if they reported back to his father...Nope! No way! Time to do what he did best...

Deflect.

"Yeah...y-yeah, sure. I'll just need to r-reorganize the parts and schematics first. So...hey, actually, have you s-seen my Dad anywhere c-cause I a-actually have to t-talk to him about...about something. So, yeah...if you can j-just hold up for a sec..." He started, quickly bouncing up the stairs as he reached for the door handle, only to stumble backward as he felt a beefy hand curl around his wrist, painfully twisting the limb unnaturally.

Peter whirled around to try and relieve some of the pressure as the dark-skinned man glared down at him, maneuvering himself in front of the kid so that any passerby couldn't see what was happening. "I didn't say you could leave." He growled darkly, Peter's eyes filling with fear.

Tony stared at the scene for a second longer before making his move.

He'd seen enough.

He might not have been able to see just what exactly the large man was doing, but the grimace etched onto Peter's face and the look in his eyes was enough to have him out of the car. "Stay here." He muttered to Happy before slamming his door shut, the driver sputtering in shock at his actions.

The billionaire quickly straightened out his suit and realigned his sunglasses (why he had them on even though it was dark out baffled everyone) as he crossed the street and moved closer to the front of the townhouse.

One of the Cons must have noticed him, for them quickly tapped the dark-skinned man on the shoulder before turning towards him. The man glared down at Peter for a moment longer before whirling around. "Hey, Peter," Tony called. "Just forgot. I wanted to talk to your dad about something real fast before we left." He explained, staring at Peter's shocked face.

The kid seemed frozen, baffled as to why the man was still there. "I...umm...I-I..." He stuttered. Apparently, his mouth was as frozen as his brain. However, that was not the case with the other adults. "Well, well..." The woman chimed, a new smile adorning her face. "Tony Stark. Just what do we owe this little visit?" She asked, though her eyes gave away the annoyance her voice hide perfectly.

The man either didn't pick up on the look or simply chose to ignore it, Peter decided on the latter as the man spoke up. "Like I said, sweetheart. I just need to have a quick little chat with the kiddo's papa." He stated casually, reaching forward to wrap an arm around the kid's shoulder, effectively pulling him away from the others. Peter tensed at the touch but decided against fighting it. He continued to stare up at Tony in shock. "If that isn't too much trouble." The man finished.

The Cons exchanged glances before the dark-skinned man let out an irritated sigh. "Fine." He muttered darkly, motioning with his head for the others to step away from the door. Peter blinked the shock out of his eyes as he cast a nervous glance at Tony before stepping forward, walking up the stairs and wrapping a shaking hand around the door handle.

Taking a shaky breath, Peter pressed his thumb against the top of the handle, a click reverberating through the air as the locks slid apart before he pulled one of the twin doors open. Considering it was dark outside, the lights were already on as Peter walked inside.

Stepping through the short, narrow hallway, the walls opened up to reveal a large room sectioned off into two main parts. Down a long stretch straight ahead stood an elevator, spiraling stairs sitting next to the machine, leading up to the next floor. On the right of the stairs stood the main living area, complete with couches, a large TV, a pool table and a bar. On the other side sat a small dining table and kitchenette that looked like it'd never been used leading down another long hallway, no doubt housing a couple bedrooms.

Peter wrung his hands as he glanced over his shoulder at the Cons, who currently looked like they wanted to maul a couple of puppies. "Umm...w-wh-where's...uh...wh-" He stuttered out, only to be harshly cut off.

"Second floor. Dining room." The dark-skinned man snarled as he glared down at the teen.

Peter winced slightly before giving a small nod of his head. Tony narrowed his eyes at the scene but said nothing as Peter began to make his way across the first floor and over to the stairs. Slightly relieved by the fact that they all wouldn't have to cram inside the slow-moving machine, Tony followed the shuffling kid up the stairs before they reached the second floor, stepping away from the stairs while they continued up towards the third floor.

This floor was similar to the first, except the dining room and kitchen were _much_ bigger, meaning this floor was probably used mostly for eating and cooking. Though as Tony looked around at the Cons, he severely doubted any of them were big bakers.

Stepping away from the stairs, the floor instantly opened up to a large dinette, long table situated to the left while a small couch and coffee table sat farther to the right. Deeper into the floor, a large kitchen could be seen as well as two large doors on either side, most likely leading off to two more bedrooms.

Upon arriving on the floor, they were greeted to the sight of Richard Parker sitting at the head of the dining table, numerous papers were strewn about the smooth surface while a pair of glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose. An irritated frown set firmly on his face made Peter wince, but the teen continued on into the room nonetheless, the others following behind.

The sound of their footsteps made Richard glare up from his papers, only for his eyebrows to raise in slight surprise at the sight that greeted him. Biting back a growl of annoyance, Richard pushed his chair back and stood up, removing the glasses from his face before gently setting them down on the table. "Peter..." He greeted coolly, the teen quickly lowering his gaze to the floor. "Sir..." He whispered back before the woman stepped forward. "Mr. Stark said he wanted to talk with you about something." She explained, her voice tight and strained.

Richard glanced at her then at Stark before a small smile set on his face. "I see you met my associates." He called.

Tony turned a stare over at the Cons, who were currently watching the exchange with unreadable expressions. "Sort of...we haven't really had the chance to speak."

Parker gave a small nod. "Well, allow me to introduce you to them." He said as he moved over to the others. "This is Flint Marko, head of security over at Parkstem Labs." He explained, placing a hand on the man with the striped shirt before moving over to the leaner figure standing next to him. "This here is Dr. Curt Conners, one of my top scientists and close friends." The man - Conners - fixed Tony with an unsettling grin.

"Over here, we have Ms. Sandra Deel." He gestured towards the woman, who flashed Tony a dazzling smile that didn't match the look in her eyes at all. "She's head of shipping and manufacturing." He explained before moving over towards the final man. "And this here is Mr. Maxwell Dillon, our financial adviser." He named.

Tony stepped forward and shook each and every one of their hands.

He'd definitely have to wash them later. _Really, really well._

"Please to meet all of you." He flashed them a grin, one that didn't match the unsettling feeling he was beginning to feel in the pit of his stomach. Just _what_ was it about these people that made him feel so _uneasy_?

"Max," Richard called. "You think you can take Peter and the others downstairs while I talk to Mr. Stark?"

"Uh-huh." The man called, wrapping a hand around Peter's shoulder, the teen wincing at the touch. "Besides, we still got a whole lot of catching up to do, don't we, Petey?" He called, the others smirking at the teen's pained face.

 _Oh yeah. That's what._

Tony watched out of the corner of his eye as Peter was all but dragged back down the stairs with the others behind him. Realizing he had more pressing matter he needed to deal with, Tony wrapped his hand around one of the chairs and pulled it out, taking a seat at the table, Richard sitting as well.

"So...what did you want to talk about?"

The billionaire usually would have instantly jumped into conversation, all of his wants and demands sitting neatly in a corner of his mind as he'd spin an intricate web of conversation and charm, weaving them through the dialogue effortlessly and seamlessly until everything he'd planned and accounted for were already at his fingertips.

This time, however, something was different.

He had _no_ plan whatsoever. In fact, the man was having a difficult time remembering why he'd even gotten out of the car in the first place.

Sure the look on Peter's face and the questionable actions of the Cons had been enough to warrant concern, but just what did Tony hope to achieve by being here? What was he even _worried_ about, exactly? Sure things might have seemed a little... _strange_ , but who was to say that wasn't normal around here.

God knew he'd had his fair share of interacting with his father's _"_ associates" _,_ and he'd be lying if he said he'd _enjoyed_ those moments. In fact, they felt like torture to him every time he even _thought_ about it. Having to dress in a stuffy suit and tie while his father made conversation to a bunch of brown-nosed, slimy little corporate scums who'd bend any rules and break any backs just to get a little bit of headway? It was _awful_!

Any conversations he'd held with them felt like they were trying to probe his brain for any valuable information they could use, like they were hoping he'd slip up and reveal something he wasn't supposed to. Or worse, they'd try to force _their_ thoughts into _his_ brain, thinking _he_ was the ticket to getting to his father. It was like they were trying to shove their ideas down his throat and turn him into their personal little dancing monkey. But heaven knew his father already used him for that.

Sorry boys, he was taken.

But still, he'd never been comfortable around any of them.

Maybe that's just what was going on here. Sure, Peter had seemed a little bit more distressed than he'd ever been, but who was too say the kid wasn't just overreacting? Even from their short time together, Tony could tell the kid wasn't the most socially adjusted. Heck, the kid seemed to wear an imaginary muzzle at times!

Maybe _he_ was overreacting. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions _way_ too fast. Maybe he just needed to let things go and stick to the plan: meet the kid, help the kid, forget the kid. After all, he had _so_ much more to worry about at the moment that even _thinking_ of adding another thing to his already overflowing plate of problems seemed _unimaginable_.

He just didn't have the time to be worrying about some kid right now, especially if he wasn't _certain_ the kid was _worth_ worrying over.

Tony paused for a moment and stared around at the room. _God, what am I doing?_ He thought to himself. If he could, he probably would have chuckled, and he's sure many others would have too if they could have seen him. He was Tony Stark. Tony _frikkin_ Stark! Resident city genius, owner of a multi-billion dollar company and head of the most well-known team of superhumans around.

Well . . . . _ex-_ team.

Of all the things that could be used to describe him, _caring_ was not one of them, especially when in connection to children. Lord knows he tried to stay as far away from them as possible. Most of them were bratty, spastic little shits who thought too much of themselves and too little of the world around them, other than the fact that they were at the center of it. So to say that Tony Stark had somehow ended up inside the home of a nervous kid simply because of the fact that the dad's friends rubbed him the wrong way?

Yep, he _definitely_ sounded insane.

There was no way he was going through with this. Heck, he didn't even know what _"this"_ was! He _literally_ had run in blind. Nevertheless, he was not about to get mixed up in some stupid shit that didn't concern him. It just wasn't worth his time. _That kid_ just wasn't worth it.

". . ."

"I want Peter to come intern for me at Stark Industries."

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

"What?"

 _WHAT?!_

Richard furrowed his brow at the man's statement, blinking his eyes quickly in shock before clearing his throat. "Umm...could you repeat that?"

 _Yeah, could you repeat that?!_ Tony screamed at himself. Just what the _fuck_ did he think he was doing?!

"I want to offer Peter a full internship at Stark Industries. No strings attached. No payments necessary. No sign-ups required." He explained, the words flowing out of his mouth before his brain could even catch up to them, could even _stop_ them. "After school, from 3 pm to 7 pm. I'd have one of my drivers pick him up and drop him off so transportation wouldn't be a problem."

What was he saying? What was he _doing?_ Was he seriously offering the kid an _internship_ , something he _never_ did? He didn't even _take_ interns! If he wanted a drooling idiot following at his heels asking him ridiculous questions and offering stupid suggestions he'd just hang out more in the common areas of the Stark Expos! Or, heck, he could even just _walk through the front doors_ of Oscorp. Lord knew there were _plenty_ of idiots for him to choose from there!

And yet, the words continued to spill from his mouth, listing the details and explanations of the program he was literally making up there on the spot. He just couldn't get himself to SHUT UP!

For a moment, the man wondered whether or not he was having a stroke or something until the sound of heavy footsteps made them both pause and look up. Suddenly, Peter came bounding up the stairs, face red and chest heaving, white-knuckle grip around the silver case. The kid stole a quick glance up at them before sprinting up the stairs once again towards the third floor, the distant sound of a door being slammed reaching Tony's ears. Richard rolled his eyes and glanced back over at Stark, but Tony lingered on it for much longer. For it was the look on Peter's face that he'd caught in that moment that made him tense.

The kid's face had been streaming with tears.

Tony turned away and stared down at the table, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he weakly fought to continue the argument that this wasn't worth his time. That this kid didn't _really_ need his help. That he wasn't actually . . . _concerned._

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

He finally let out a small sigh before turning back up to face Richard. "I think this could be really good for him." He stated, finally allowing the words to roll from his tongue without any protest from his brain.

Richard stared Tony down for a moment, eyes hardening as he lowered his gaze, scanning the papers still scattered around the table. Reaching down, he gathered the paper together before neatly shuffling them into a pile. Tony watched the man work, neither saying anything, though the billionaire's heart was now beginning to pound slightly in his chest.

Finally, after a moment, Richard stared back up at Tony, cold eyes burrowing into the man's gaze. "Tell me, Stark..." He said, eerily calm. "Just _what_ about my son has you so intrigued, huh?" He asked, placing his elbows on the table, folding his hands in front of his face. "Why _him?"_ He murmured darkly.

Tony narrowed his eyes slightly at the shift in tone. Richard was now staring at the man with a suspicious glint in his eyes. The only explanation Tony could surmise for it was that the man suspected he was simply trying to unlock secrets about Parkstem Labs through Peter. After all, the Cons had been right before in saying that Parkstem _was_ a major competitor for him alongside Oscorp.

However, he couldn't care less about uncovering their secrets.

Tony leaned closer, matching Richard's hard stare. "I was keeping an eye on Peter throughout the convention. From the record I was able to pull on him as well as his application into the Foundation, he was an intriguing case." He explained. "As I observed him, I noticed he seemed to be much farther along in terms of intelligence compared to the other students at the meet." He waved his hand through the air. "With this internship, he'd be allowed to shadow some of the scientists and professionals at the company as well as learn about the robotics and invention processes involved." He explained.

Richard listened with narrowed eyes as Tony continued. "However, at the convention, I also noticed that Peter seemed to be very . . . anxious and nervous." He said, choosing his words carefully, fingers twitching slightly as he waited for Richard's explanation of such actions.

However, the man merely rolled his eyes. "Yes, he's always been a bit..." He waved his hand dismissively. "...weak-minded." He muttered. "Believe me, I've tried to toughen him up. The others have, too."

 _Oh don't worry, I believe you._ Tony muttered to himself as Richard continued. "But, he's just incredibly frail." The man grumbled. "Sometimes I fear he'll never grow out of it..." The man paused for a moment before continuing. "The world's been changing drastically these past few years, Mr. Stark. People can't just skirt by anymore on the bare minimum." He growled. "Nowadays, only the tough, only the strong survive out there these days . . . in our line of business." He added on after a moment of hesitation.

"With how he acts, Peter doesn't stand much of a chance." He finally finished.

Tony nodded before leaning closer. "That's what I believe I can fix with this internship." He explained, Richard leveling him a hard stare. "Putting him in an environment I know he can excel in might just give him the confidence he's been lacking." Tony explained. "Trust me, Mr. Parker, I really think Peter could benefit from this internship." He finished.

Richard gave a small nod of his head before lowering his gaze back down to the papers below, his brows furrowed in thought. Tony watched on, anticipation and a flutter of nervousness stirring in his gut. After all, this little plan of his couldn't really work if the kid's father didn't actually _agree_ with it. In fact, Tony was beginning to worry that this little attempt at helping the kid might just cause more trouble for him. And Lord knows he didn't need _that_ on his conscious.

But finally, after a moment, Richard's hard gaze seemed to soften slightly as he gave a small nod of his head. Lifting his gaze, he met Tony's eyes. "Stark, if you think this little. . . . _program_ of yours can help my son, then so be it." He uttered softly, an almost _unsettling_ smile setting on his face.

Tony felt his stomach churn once again as he began to feel the same vibes he'd gotten from the Cons, but quickly pushed it down as the two men rose up from their seats and shook hands. Richard cast a small, annoyed glare upstairs. "I should probably go and tell Peter." He muttered.

Before his brain could catch up to his body, he was jumping in front of the man, holding his hands up with a shrug of his shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll go and tell him." He said, the words falling out before he could stop them.

 _You are just on a roll, aren't you?_ He grumbled to himself as Richard nodded his head, motioning towards the stairs. Tony bit back a sigh as he seriously began to consider getting a CAT scan when he got back to the Tower, trudging up the stairs past the top penthouse and up to the two bedrooms on the final floor.

The man paused at Peter's door, biting the inside of cheek in hesitation as he wondered whether he should just send Richard up instead. But after remembering the look on Peter's face as well as the annoyance In Richard's, Tony let out a small sigh and gently tapped his knuckle against the door.

After a few moments passed of silence in which Tony began to feel his old-self bubbling back up to the surface as his patience wore thin, the man called the kid's name. "Peter? You in there, kid?" He asked.

Silence.

Furrowing his brow, the man glanced down at the door handle before giving a roll of his eyes. "I am _so_ not cut out for this." He muttered as he turned the handle and pushed the door open slowly. The hinges gave a soft creak as the door slowly swung open, the darkness of the room hitting Tony hard as his eyes fought to adjust to the lack of lighting.

The room was as he remembered it. To the right of the door stood the kid's bed, as pristine and neatly made as before. Across from it sat a small couch with a glass coffee table and a large TV, as well as a number of game consoles, many of which looked to be untouched. Lined along the walls stood many different bookshelves, each filled to the brim with an assortment of textbooks and worn-out leather bound novels. A large desk with a sleek laptop and a number of torn-up gadgets and machines sat against the back wall as well. And finally, on the wall opposite the door stood the grand glass doors that led out to the small balcony.

As his eyes adjusted, Tony made out a small shape on the floor of the balcony, seemingly unmoving as they sat. The man's eyes furrowed slightly as he shut the door behind him and slowly began to quietly make his way over. Stopping just before opening the doors, he stared at the small figure through the glass.

Peter sat curled up at the far right corner of the small square space, back pressed up against one of the transparent balcony walls. His loose brown curls blew gently against his face, brushing up against his forehead, occasionally hiding his eyes. Yet, through the parts they created, Tony could tell they were red-rimmed and wet, his cheeks shiny as well. The kid's arms were wrapped around his knees, which he'd tucked close to his chest, his chin resting on top as he stared lazily down at the view below him.

All in all, the kid looked miserable.

Tony let out a small breath and grasped the metal handle of the door, sliding it open. Peter jolted violently at the noise, head whipping around to face it. His eyes instantly filled with fear as his hands raised instinctively, only to pause as he caught sight of who exactly was at his door.

"M-Mr. Stark?" He whispered softly, voice hiding none of his disbelief.

"Hey, kid." Tony called casually as he stepped out onto the floor. The wind gently brushed past his face as he made his way over. Peter watched him with wide eyes for a moment before he seemed to realize his predicament, roughly rubbing at his face with the back of his hand, a soft red tint growing around his cheeks.

Tony watched the kid from the corner of his eye, but decided against commenting on his actions. The kid was embarrassed enough as it was. Pretending not to have seen it, Tony rested his elbows on the balcony railing and gently leaned forward, gazing down at the view.

The townhouse rested on a large hill, elevating the view substantially till Tony could basically stare out above some of the surrounding buildings. From a distance, the bright lights of Town Square could be seen glowing brightly in the night sky, illuminating the waters of the East River in bright washes of red, yellow and green. The moon hung in the sky above the buildings, shining brightly as it seemed to compete with the lights of the city. As usual, the sky held no stars. With all the bright lights and shining flashes, the chances of ever even noticing the faint pinpricks of white in the sky were slim to none.

"You ever seen stars before?" Tony asked, noting how Peter had risen up from his spot on the floor and was now gazing out at the city next to him. The boy glanced up at him before lowering his gaze back down, shaking his head softly. "N-no...heh...never even been out of the city before." He murmured. "At least, not _before."_ He added, the memory of his first plane ride still fresh in his mind.

"Umm...M-Mr. Stark? N-not that I-I'm...complaining or...or anything, but...b-but...umm...I-I don't ...I m-mean...w-wh-"

"Why am I here, exactly?" Tony asked, realizing the kid couldn't seem to choke out the last few words. Peter glanced up for a second before giving a nod of his head. Tony gazed back out at the view as he shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, you know, just chatting with your Dad about a few things here and there. Nothing too interesting." He mused, Peter fiddling with his fingers as he gave a small nod. "Oh! And I also got you an actual internship at Stark Industries if that's any interest."

Peter's eyes grew twice as wide as he whipped around. "Y-you what?!" He nearly shouted before clearing his throat, lowering his head in embarrassment at his outburst. "B-but...but I thought y-you said we...we were just g-gonna use that a-as a cover." He stuttered out, clearly confused at the man's switch.

Tony shrugged once more. "Yeah, well, I changed my mind kid." He leaned forward, giving the kid a light punch in the arm. "Guess you rubbed me the right way." He joked, Peter flinching slightly at the punch before giving a small smile, rubbing his arm nervously. "R-really?" He breathed before giving a small chuckle. "That's a first." He snorted softly.

The kid stared out at the view for a moment longer before his smile slipped slightly, a nervous grimace taking its place. "H-how did...m-my father take it?" He asked, biting the bottom of his lip.

Tony glanced over at him before waving his hand in the air dismissively. "Ah...he was a little hesitant at first, but I was able to convince him to go along with it." He explained, Peter blinking up at him in surprise. "Huh..." He murmured softly.

"What?"

"N-no, nothing. I-it's...it's just that...well, it's not the easiest th-thing in the world to convince my...my dad, you know?" He said, gazing at the billionaire. Tony pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he glanced over at Peter before turning away. "Yep...I kind of got that vibe from him." He muttered.

Before he could delve any farther into his suspicions of the boy's father, he whipped around and clapped his hands together, Peter jumping at the noise. "But, enough of that." He exclaimed as he wrapped an arm around the kid and pulled him closer. As expected, Peter instantly tensed at the touch. "Now, this internship will be every day after school from three to seven. Now, judging from how long an average drive from the tower to here will take, as well as whatever chores and homework you most likely'll have to finish up, that should leave you with about a two-hour window for patrolling and - you getting all this kid?"

Peter blinked up at him before giving a vigorous nod.

"Good. Now we'll probably meet on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but if I decide I like having you around, I might just decide to let you hang a little more." The man paused to twirl his hand in the air. "I'll just make something up about you having _'big projects to finish'_ or some bullshit like that." He muttered as Peter continued to stare up at him.

"You'll probably have some stuff you'll have to help with and I already _know_ Pepper's gonna have some work lined up for you, but you'll probably have time to finish up your homework sprinkled in there as well. Plus, if you get on my good side, " He explained, pointing a finger towards the kid. "I might even help you out with improvements to your suit."

Peter could only stand there frozen with the occasional blink as Tony rambled on about the details of this supposed _"new internship"_. Even though he could hear the words the man was uttering, he still couldn't actually _believe_ it. He especially couldn't believe the fact that his father had actually _allowed_ it! Never in a million years would he have suspected his father would let him to _anything_ related to Tony Stark or Stark Industries. He was still reeling from the fact that he allowed Peter to go to Berlin, granted he merely believed it to be a convention of sorts, but still!

His father _hated_ anything to do with Tony or Stark Industries.

That he knew as absolute fact. So for Tony to be standing there telling him his father had actually approved of his interning there? He almost wondered whether or not he was dreaming or something.

And yet, it wasn't just the fact that his father approved that was hard for Peter to believe. No, what he couldn't understand was _why_ he was being offered this at all!

"Mr. Stark..." Peter called softly, silencing the man from his little speech. The kid lowered his gaze once again, wringing his fingers together like they were a wet rag. Tony watched as the kid's face seemed to get flushed, his cheeks growing slightly pink as the color drained from the rest of his face. His large brown eyes flittered around from one spot to another as the kid seemed to struggle to open his mouth.

Finally, after a moment, he did. "F-first of all...I just w-want to say...t-thank you." He said softly. "I k-know you didn't h-have to come and find me. I...I know y-you didn't have to help m-me and give me t-that...that new suit...but you _did._ You did and I...I am _so_ grateful...f-for all of it." He explained.

"And...and I don't want you to t-think that I...that I'm not appreciative of w-what...what you're offering m-me..." He started, his voice straining slightly as he tightened his grip around his fingers. "But I . . ." He paused, the words seeming to catch in the back of his throat as he tried to force them out. "I...I-I...I just...j-just...I-" His hands began to shake as his squeezed his eyes shut.

Tony quickly realized the boy's plight and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, kid." He murmured gently, hoping having the boy realize he wasn't annoyed would help him relax.

Peter took a calming breath and opened his eyes once more. "I...I j-just don't understand w-why you're...why you're offering me this." He finally stuttered out. Tony furrowed his brow as the boy continued. "I mean...-don't get me w-wrong, I'm flattered y-you thought of m-me...but...but I'm s-sure there are more...more q-qualified people to...to offer this to." He rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his head. "I-I'm nothing...nothing special. I'm j-just a kid who happens to h-have some freaky powers. I...I don't really d-deserve all of...all of this."

The kid let out a small laugh, though Tony could tell there was no joy behind it. "And if you...if you talked to m-my dad like you said y-you did...t-then...then you already know what he...what he thinks of me." Peter lowered his head, shutting his eyes tightly. "And if t-that's true, then I really don't k-know why you're even talking to me." He whispered out, his voice quivered.

Tony stared at the boy in front of him, arms wrapped around himself defensively as his chin was tucked close to his chest, eyes shut tightly as his hands shook. And for a moment...for a brief fleeting second...he had the urge to open his arms and pull the kid in. For a small nanosecond, Tony Stark actually wanted to _hug_ the kid.

Yet just as it overcame him, the feeling vanished. But the sympathy didn't.

The billionaire stepped closer and placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. Peter tensed for a second but decided against fighting it he lifted his head to meet Tony's gaze. The kid briefly noted the feeling of moisture on his cheeks.

Tony stared into the kid's teary eyes, large brown pools staring back at him. Pushing aside his hesitation at speaking to a kid who was obviously emotionally unstable, the man let out a sigh and gazed back at the boy. "You think you can listen to me for a sec, kid?" He asked, Peter staring up at him for a minute before giving a small nod.

The man opened his mouth, only for no words to come out. He sucked in a breath, closing his mouth again as he cast his eyes away, furrowing his brows as he fought over how to handle this. Letting out a small huff of air, the man turned to Peter. "You know...my father was never really good at the whole ' _supporting your kids'_ thing. He never really knew how to... _handle_ me." He explained, wondering whether or not this was actually helping.

He was leaning towards the _not_.

"I never really felt like I could talk to him, you know? I just thought that whatever I did wasn't good enough for him. That every word that came out of my mouth was another reminder to him that I wasn't what he wanted. Granted I didn't really help my case by going to a _ton_ of college parties, getting _wasted_ a _shitload_ of times and partying with whatever girl crossed my path but-"

He glanced down at Peter, the boy continuously blinking up at him with those wide eyes of him.

Yep, definitely _not_ helping.

The man sighed, running a hand over his face. "I am _so_ not cut out for this." He muttered to himself before he turned around, leaning his back up against the railing of the balcony, wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulder as he pulled the kid closer.

"Listen, kid. It's true that this is... _unorthodox_ for me to be offering this. And it's also true that there are _plenty_ of other people I could offer this to." He started, watching as the kid lowered his gaze back down to the ground. "But, I chose you for a reason, Pete." He explained, the nickname popping out before he could even think about it. "I think you got a lot of potential kid. Heck, it's obvious just by the way you were able to make those web shooters just by scraps you found in the frikkin dumpster." He exclaimed, a small smile forming on his face.

"And hey, I get it that you're a bit unsure of this. Heck, I'm a little unsure myself..." He paused and wrapped both of his hands around Peter's shoulders, turning the kid to face him. "But I need you to understand this, kid. You _do_ deserve all of this. I don't know about you, but I haven't come across any other kids swinging around the city with basically no protection whatsoever helping people just to help them, just because they _can."_ He explained, Peter glancing away as a slight red tint began to fade onto his face.

"You're a good kid, Peter." Tony said softly. "That's why I'm offering this internship to you. Cause I want to get to know that good kid. Because I want you to know that just because your father thinks all these things about you...it doesn't mean the rest of the world thinks it too. And it definitely doesn't mean I think it either."

Peter slowly lifted up his gaze, blinking up at the man once more as Tony pulled away. "So what do you say, kid?" He asked, a smug smile forming on his face. "You wanna join me over on the dark side, or would you rather stay here and work at _boring_ , old Parkstem Labs?" He moaned overdramatically.

Peter let out a small laugh. "They're not that bad, you know." He murmured softly, a smile forming on his face.

Tony turned a serious look towards him. "Alright, if you're gonna be working for me, you're no longer able to give any sorts of praise, adoration or compliments to that place, got it? Nothing except seething remarks or hate letters, alright?" He said, Peter letting out a full-blown laugh at that, the man chuckling next to him as they walked back through the glass doors and into the teen's dark room. He liked the kid's laugh. It sounded...right.

Walking back out towards the common rooms, Tony noticed Peter's demeanor instantly shift back to quiet and reserved as they made their way down the stairs and back down to the first floor, where the others were congregating. "Well, it's a done deal." Tony called, the others glancing up at the pair as they made their way down the stairs.

Richard gave a small nod of his head as the pair reached them, the Cons letting out small huffs behind him. "Very well. And you said transportation would not be an issue?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I'll have a driver pick him up and drop him off." He explained as the large group began to make their way over to the door. "Then I see no problems. As long as this doesn't interfere with his schoolwork." Richard murmured, stealing a glance down at Peter, who was now standing at his side, his fingers twitching nervously.

"I doubt that'll be much of an issue." Tony smirked as he began to make his way outside. "Well, it was a... _pleasure_ meeting all of you." The man called as he gazed at the Cons, who seemed to be trying not to roll their eyes. Keyword: _trying._

However, before Tony could begin his descent down the stairs, he felt a small hand grab at his sleeve. Turning back, he watched as Peter quickly stepped outside as well, rushing up to meet the man. "Oh, and Mr. Stark..." He called as he stared up at the man, large brown eyes once again staring up at the man, but this time, there was something different about them. They didn't seem as desperate, as...searching. Instead, they seemed almost...bright. "Before you leave, I just wanted to say thank you," Peter said softly. "For everything."

Tony stared back at the large brown moons, seemingly lost in them for a moment as they stared at him in awe before he blinked back into reality, a smile forming on his face. "No problem, kid. See you tomorrow." He said as he began to make his way down the stairs, the smile lingering on his face for one single reason.

The kid hadn't stuttered a single time throughout that sentence.

. . .

It was a start.

Tony reached the car and silently stepped inside. "Well, you took your sweet time, didn't you?" Happy muttered as he cast a small glare behind him. "You know I'm only doing this as a favor, right? I'm not your driver anymore, alright? I have a very serious job now-"

Tony knew Happy was talking, but as usual, he wasn't really listening. Instead, his eyes were trained on the kid currently standing on the front step of his house, gazing at the car with wide eyes before a large hand was placed on his shoulder, jerking him back to attention. Peter glanced up nervously at his father and the awaiting Cons, casting one last glance at the car before ducking back into the house, the door slamming shut behind him.

Tony furrowed his brow before leaning back in his seat, a tired sigh tearing its way through his lips. Only now did he realize how exhausted he actually was. Though he shouldn't have been surprised. It hadn't exactly been an easy weekend for him.

After a moment, he realized the car was moving. Happy must have realized the man wasn't listening and had decided to just drive back to the Tower. Tony let out a small moan and rested his head back. "You good?" Happy called from the front, his earlier agitation dissipating as he took in how bedraggled his friend looked.

"Yep. Yep, I am... _stellar."_ Tony muttered softly as he shut his eyes. The man desperately wished that was true. He wished he really was _alright_ and that it had just been another long weekend. He wished everything was fine and that he could look forward to coming back home and relaxing. He wished...

He wished for a lot of things that just weren't going to come true anytime soon.

Tony winced as he shifted in his seat, his shoulder letting out a small shout of protest at the movement. He furrowed his brow slightly He'd been so busy lately that he'd forgotten all about the injury. _Well, at least the kid's already coming in handy._ He muttered, realizing the boy had acted as a perfect distraction to-

No, Nope! He was _not_ going there. Tony knew if he even began to _think_ about St- _about..._ what happened, he would lose it. And he so _did not_ need to have a breakdown in the car. _Just breath..._ Tony muttered to himself as he shut his eyes once more, concentrating instead on taking deep breaths and slowly letting them out. He repeated the mantra in his head throughout the car ride, shutting out every and all outside noises.

He never saw the way Happy glanced at him through the rearview window, concern evident in his usually cold eyes.

* * *

 **Sunday - March 6, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Lower Level Sub-Garage**

 **09:54 p.m.**

"Tony?"

The man's eyes snapped open as his name was called. He let out a small groan as he sat up, rubbing his sore neck as he glanced over at Happy, the man staring at him from the front seat. After a moment, Tony realized they were in the Tower's garage. How long had they been there?

"You _sure_ you're alright?" The man asked.

Tony slipped a smile onto his face. "Careful, Happy. Keep acting like that, and I might actually suspect that you're _worried_ about little ol' me." He said, batting his eyelashes at the man. Happy rolled his eyes and turned back around in his seat. "Yeah, I know. I _must_ be insane." He muttered, but he couldn't help the nervous frown that fell onto his face as Tony exited the car. Though he knew it was pointless to ask the man again if he was alright. he would just do what he always did: deflect.

Tony was silent as he entered the Tower elevator, automatically telling FRIDAY to take him to the labs. He didn't even know he'd said anything until he felt the elevator moving underneath his feet.

The man let out a tired groan as he rubbed his face, his head pounding painfully.

"Sir, might I suggest you instead go and get some rest instead of working in the labs tonight?" The automated voice called from above. Well at least, _one_ thing was still the same.

"I'm fine, FRIDAY," Tony called as the elevator doors opened. "And _no,_ I don't want to hear your list of reasons as to why I am _not_ fine." He said quickly after a second thought, the voice falling silent as he entered the lab.

The once comforting sight of the messy lab now made Tony's stomach churn uneasily as he stepped inside. A multitude of different projects sat on the tables, the robots in the corner chiming to life as he entered. He watched as Dum-E accidentally scattered a few papers across the floor, but he honestly didn't have the energy to scold the machine.

Tony walked through the seemingly endless corridor of tables, eyes glancing over the many different machines and parts strewn about the smooth surfaces. To be honest, he didn't know what he was really looking for, if anything at all. He didn't even know what he was doing down here. But he knew it was better than being up in the penthouse. He didn't know if he could take how quiet it was now.

As he walked, his eyes caught sight of something that made his legs stop.

Sitting on one of the large tables sat his Iron Man suit. The one he'd taken to Siberia. It was almost _worse_ than he remembered it. The numerous gashes and slash marks coating the armor had almost stripped away all the paint. Loose circuits and bare wires could be seen and a large gash had been made in the very center of the suit. Memories of how such injuries had been sustained flashed across Tony's eyes, making the man wince and sharply turn his head.

Oh, how he wished he hadn't.

As he moved his head away, he caught sight of something that made him want to hurl. There, sitting propped up on the floor next to the table sat Cap's shield. Like his suit, much of the paint had been stripped away and there were numerous slash marks marring the surface.

Tony couldn't help but stare at the shield, eyes boring into the signature pattern, the colors blurring together slightly. He could hear his heart beating frantically against his chest, but he just couldn't _feel_ it. His chest heaved as he sucked in a few shaky breaths. Glancing down, he noticed his hands were shaking violently, as was the rest of his body.

As he continued to stare at the shield, he felt his feet moving until his back eventually hit the wall. Suddenly, he was back in Siberia. His suit was blaring loudly in his ears, different alarms and sirens going off as he felt a hand digging into his chest, curling around the reactor. He could feel fists pounding against the metal surrounding him, sharp jabs from the shield hitting his side, his chest, his face. The sound of his blasters charging up, the taste of copper in his mouth, the feeling of sweat rolling down his temple.

He felt himself slide down the wall, his bottom hitting the floor hard as his breathing became frantic and uneven. His hand rose up to his chest, rubbing the spot where his reactor had once been.

Tony stared at the shield for a moment longer before he tore his gaze away, head pounding so loudly he felt it would soon splinter.

The man let out another shaky breath, feeling it hitch in the back of his throat. His brain throbbed as he rested his head on the back of the wall, shutting his eyes tightly as he fought against what he knew was coming.

His throat was dry.

They were gone. It was plain and simple. He just couldn't ignore it anymore. They were gone. All of them. He'd tried to hard to keep them all together, to do the right thing and...it'd all fallen apart.

His eyes itched.

He should have seen it coming. Things had been going too well for it not to fall to shit. He just should have _seen it coming._ But he hadn't. He hadn't...and now he was alone. All of them, people he'd finally begun to consider as friends, as...as _family,_ they were all gone. They'd all left. They'd all left _him._

His nose burned.

He'd tried. This time he'd really _tried._ He had done all that he could, but in the end, he was only human. He could only do so much. Why couldn't anyone understand that? Why couldn't anyone _ever_ understand that?

Suddenly, he felt tears sliding down his cheeks, splattering down against his pants, against the cold floor. But he didn't care. Not after all of it. He just _couldn't_ care about it. He had no strength left to do so. So he just sat there, leaning against the back wall, legs splayed out before him, arms curled around himself as Tony Stark, world genius, multi-billionaire, famous hero...

...sobbed. He simply sat there and sobbed over everything, over the _second_ family he'd lost. And if he were being honest, he seriously doubted he would ever recover from _this_ one.

* * *

 **Wow...only two chapters in and we're already brewing a lovely concoction of angst and sorrow...I LOVE IT! Hehehehe...**

 **Anyway, kudos to all of you who understood the significance of the Cons' names. BTW, important note, any and all character personalities associated with the real Spider-Man characters I based their names off of are to be discarded. I didn't actually use their names to add their characters into the story, I just thought it would be a cool element to have these characters be INSPIRED and BASED off of those canon Spider-Man characters, alright.**

 **All you gotta know is that the only thing I took from those canon characters are their names (and maybe their physical descriptions). Their storylines and backstory are not relevant.**

 **That might be a little confusing to some, so if you have any questions, don't hesitate to PM me!**

 **IMPORTANT NOTE: ANY AND ALL PEOPLE WHO ASK ME TO SHIP PETER AND TONY TOGETHER WILL INSTANTLY BE IGNORED! Sorry, it's just not my thing. ANOTHER KEY NOTE: any and all pairings I do will be incredibly** ** _minor_** **. I am not into the heavily sexual shit and stuff like that. My rendition of a couple if basically just a little cuddling and hugging and the occasional kiss if I'm feeling** ** _scandalous_** **XD**

 **Leave your thoughts down in the comments, please. I've never really done a pairing like that before, so I am honestly excited and kind of want to try it out so...**

 **Anywhooo...thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following:** ** _Legitimate Pipsqueak (_** ** _WOOO! I LOVE THIS GUY!), YuzukiKuchiki, hrey573456, repliedgrunt14, theorbess540, Blik46, Celeste621, Dreamer-Of-The-Omniverse, FlamingPhoenix112, Moonstone1000, ptbaym10, 5862-sembonzakura, Onlyinitforthestories2, TinyShadowCat, lil'fernie, milla11, Ammy of Asgard, BeingMuggie, Blaney, The One Who Holds On, lion-xx, GeekyChameleon, Andipandi5, Emnic1, Nindragon, seldabwsmsk, IntrovertMess, Erika266, Phoenixhp5, layla-kyoyama, NlueHeart007, Toni42, YouBetterCryKed_**

 **Reviews:**

 **claudeclouds** **:** **That's my goal: to write a story nobody has written yet. Really hope you enjoy it. Thanks for commenting bro! Sunshine for you!**

 **Phoenixhp5:** **Gracias, mi amigo! To be honest, that's one of the things I'm most excited for too. One of my favorite things about writing is creating new and exciting relationships between characters. SO, I hope you enjoy what I do with Tony and Peter.**

 **Legitimate Pipsqueak:** **What the FUCK are you doing here?! Why are you so frikkin awesome? You always seem to be around all of my fics. AND you were the first person to follow and favorite?! Jesus Christ, I LEGIT LOVE YOU, man! (woman? Whatever, IDK, you be you). I am actually stoked you're here. It always feels great to have a longtime fan around. Extra sunshine for you, my friend. I hope I make this fic interesting for you! :D**

 **BlueHeart007** **: Loving you! Thanks for reading! Sunshine for you!**

 **Toni42** **: I know right. BTW: would just like to remind everyone that this is NOT symbolism for my relationship with my padre. For the most part that dork's pretty chill...most of the time. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading more. Sunshine for you!**

 **Nindrago** **n: Aww! Thank you so much. You're an awesome reader...well at least, you have good taste in reading material XD**

 **Emnic1** **: Gracias! Super excited to continue.**

 **Andipandi5** **:** ** _No, you're_** **amazing!**


	3. New Way

**Chapter 3: New Way**

 _"Well? Did you find a good recipe?"_

 _Peter felt a smile split his face as he looked up, loose teeth beaming as the toddler held out the cookbook, pressing his finger against one of the laminated pages. "Dis one!" He babbled out cheekily._

 _Mary felt a laugh bubble out of her chest as she reached down, plucking the three-year-old out of his chair and holding him against her side. She gently wrapped her hands around the book and examined the page. "This is roast turkey pot pie, sweetheart."_

 _"Yeah!"_

 _"We don't even_ have _turkey!"_

 _"Yeah!"_

 _Mary let out another laugh as she lowered her head, rubbing her nose against the boy's, Peter letting out a giggle as he pressed his tiny hands against the side of his mother's face, a large grin splitting his face._

 _The woman set the toddler back down onto the ground and turned back to the pantry. "Alright, let's see if we can actually find something suitable to eat, huh?" She smirked, her smile faltering as she gazed at the poorly stocked closet. A small sigh escaped her lips as she glanced at the dented cans and numerous boxes of colorful cereal._

 _Peter glanced up at the woman and noticed her smile wasn't there anymore. He didn't like that. He liked happy Mommy. Happy Mommy made him smile._

 _The three-year-old gazed into the pantry. There was_ something _in here that was making Mommy sad. As he scanned the small closet, his eyes fell upon the cereal boxes resting on the floor, where he could easily reach them. On the covers, there were many different mascots, each smiling happily as they stared back at the toddler._

 _Peter giggled. His cereal friends would make Mommy happy. He pushed past his mother's legs and grasped one of the boxes, holding it out to her. "Bweakfast soup!" He cheered, pushing the box up against his mother's knees._

 _Mary gazed down at the boy in surprise before a humored look appeared on her face. No matter how many times she tried to explain it, the boy just never seemed to be able to grasp the concept of_ "cereal" _. To him, it would always be "breakfast soup". She guessed in a sense he wasn't too far off. It kind of_ was _like soup..._

 _"Breakfast for dinner, huh?" She asked aloud, taking the box from her son's hands._

 _Peter jumped up. "Yeah, yeah, yeah!"_

 _Mary laughed, leaning down to blow a raspberry on Peter's cheek, the boy giggling maniacally as she did so before pushing away, ready to help his mommy._

 _"Alright, why don't you go and get me the eggs from the refrigerator?"_

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **E Eighth Avenue Local line - en route to Midtown**

 **06:35 a.m.**

Peter snapped open his eyes as a choked gasp fell from his lips. His body jerked away from the side of the wall as he sat upright, trying desperately to remember where exactly he was. He noticed a few of the people around him giving him strange glances before going back to checking their phones or glaring at their watches.

The boy stared around the packet subway car for a moment longer before his body fell slack once again against the cold metallic wall, his forehead pressing up against the cool glass window. He could feel his heart slowly returning back to its usual rhythm as he let out a small sigh, his breath fogging up the glass for a moment before it faded away.

 _I have to stop doing that._ He muttered to himself, thankful he was currently on the subway headed to school and not in his house. God knew how much trouble he'd get in if they found out he was thinking about-

 _Stop it!_ He snarled to himself, hands fisting the material of his pants around his knees as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't do that right now. He couldn't do that ever! It was bad. It was bad. It was bad. He felt his hands shaking slightly as he began to subconsciously rub his fingers against his collarbone.

Peter licked his dry lips and let out a soft groan as he felt a headache bubbling in the back of his mind, something he just _knew_ was going to bother him for the rest of the day. _Great._ A low rumbling met his ears as a familiar twinge of pain shot through his stomach. The boy winced and wrapped an arm around his torso as his body protested.

Realizing he probably couldn't put it off for much longer, the boy reached his hand across the seat next to him and grabbed his backpack, pulling it closer as he grasped the zipper, pulling it up and over before digging through the insides.

Yanking out a small, crumpled paper bag, he shoved his hand in and pulled out a smashed breakfast sandwich that seemed to have been haphazardly thrown inside.

Ignoring the poor state the biscuit was in, Peter shoved the sandwich into his mouth, relishing in the blast of flavor that coated his tongue. He'd been lucky today. The Cons had been busy arguing with each other this morning. Something about...sports...or...drugs - he really never listened. He just tried to block them out most of the time.

Anyway, while they were busy, he'd been able to make an extra sandwich for himself while making them their breakfast, slipping it into his backpack before any of them could notice.

Any smuggling of food resulted in _instant_ punishment.

That didn't stop Peter from trying at every chance he got. His father never _could_ remember to give him money for lunch and it's not like he could actually walk up to the man and _ask_ him for some, so most days he didn't eat until dinner, and even then it was just a few scraps the Cons left on their plates. He never actually had any time to sit down and eat.

On rare days where his desperation outweighed his reasoning, he'd sneak out of his room and tiptoe downstairs, stealing a quick snack before racing back upstairs. Never anything too big. They'd notice that.

So the boy usually just had to make due with what he could get. Anything was better than nothing. In the back of his mind, Peter knew that if he was ever really hungry, he could always just ask his best friend, Ned for some of his food. The boy was always more than happy to share some of his and almost always packed extra in his lunch just to give to the boy.

Ned was the only other person who knew what life at home was like.

He understood.

Still, Peter couldn't ever help the twinge of guilt that built up in his gut whenever Ned had to share his food. Granted, the boy always replied that it was no problem and that he was happy to help, it didn't make the uneasy feelings in Peter's chest disappear, though it did help the pain in his stomach decrease significantly.

Peter was quickly jolted from his thoughts as he felt the subways pulling into the station. Rising up from his seat, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and crumpled up the paper bag, tossing it into the trashcan next to him.

Reaching behind him, he grasped his hoodie and pulled it up over his head, effectively shielding his face. Just how he liked it. He glanced down and grimaced slightly at the dark marks running up and down his arms.

They were still fresh.

He quickly tugged at the bottom of his sleeves and pulled them down to cover his wrists. Muscles tensing as he slid and bumped past people with the occasional squeak of apology, Peter stepped off the car and began to quickly walk through the crowded station.

The many people pushing and shoving past each other made the boy's fingers twitch nervously as he instinctively raised up his hand, rubbing at his collarbone comfortingly as he tried to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

Wrapping his hand tightly around the strap on his backpack, Peter sucked in a small breath, counting up in his head before slowly letting it back out through his nose. He swallowed back the usual bile threatening to rise up and began towards the school.

Midtown School of Science and Technology.

Peter's safe haven.

Most teenagers would perk an eyebrow at such a fact. After all, school is never really a place most children fantasize about. It's usually a symbol of torture and imprisonment, a sentence that begins every day at 7:20 am and doesn't end until a horrendous seven-hour school day. Nothing but pushy peers and badgering teachers.

Not to Peter Parker.

To him, school was an escape. A release. Someplace he felt he could actually be himself...well, just a _little_ bit. At school, he never really had to worry about what he said or who he said it to. He didn't have to constantly look over his shoulder for threats most people wouldn't even consider as dangerous. Sure, there was the occasional taunt from Flash, but he didn't even hold a candle to the amount of bull Peter had to put up with on a daily basis.

Flash was basically just an annoying fly that occasionally buzzed by his ear. Simply a nuisance.

Of course, there was the awkwardness of being surrounded by many people, but nobody said school was perfect, right? Still, Peter would take being crowded by others over the alternative. He'd take _anything_ over the alternative.

Peter lifted his head and watched as the football players warmed up along the field that sat next to the sidewalk up to the main entrance. He watched as the players brutally thrashed each other, ramming shoulders against chests as they fought to overpower the other. The kid merely gave a small shake of his head before turning back towards the school.

Slowly trudging up the steps, he wrapped his hand around the handle and yanked the door open. Instantly, the smell of cheap perfume, old meat, and sweaty socks slammed into him, his nose crinkling slightly at the pungent scent.

Around him, kids milled around like ants running through a colony. There were people loitering by teacher doors, kids huddled on the floor as they frantically tried to finish placing last-minute touches on projects, cliches huddled together as they pressed their phones against each other, kids sitting against the walls leaning back and forth as they tried to beat the final stage on their games, couples leaning into each other as they tried to swallow each other, or at least, that's what it _looked_ like they were doing...

Yep, typical morning.

It wasn't hard to spot Ned. As usual, he was sitting down on the floor next to Peter's locker, finger swiping against the cracked screen of his phone as his dark hair hung down over his eyes.

Peter felt a rare genuine smile form on his face as he walked over, Ned perking as he caught sight of the approaching boy. "Hey, man!" He called as he quickly stood up, reaching his hand out. Peter smirked and did the same, commencing in their traditional handshake. Usually, Peter would refrain from making _any_ contact with another, but it was Ned they were talking about. Nothing _usual_ about him.

He'd first met Ned back in middle school. Even back then, the boy had been bubbly and happy, bouncing in excitement whenever anybody mentioned something he was even _remotely_ interested in. At first, his overly outward personality had been nothing short of terrifying to Peter. All the boy had hoped was that the bubbly kid would simply ignore him and leave him alone.

Welp, safe to say that wasn't the case.

For some reason, Ned had seemed to take _exceptional_ interest in him. Running up and talking to the kid whenever he'd had the chance. Peter, of course, never said anything back in return. Usually, he'd just stare at the ground and rub at his chest, mumbling apologies even if he hadn't done anything.

For a while, Peter had simply hoped the kid would get the message and leave.

Yeah...that wasn't the case either...

Instead, Ned seemed to become even _friendlier_ to him, declaring them best friends despite the fact that Peter had never even uttered a clear word to him.

It took some time, but after a while, Peter slowly began to open up to the kid. He'd raise his eyes - even if just for a moment - and answer questions the boy asked him. Granted, they had to be yes or no questions, but he answered them, nonetheless.

It wasn't long after that that Ned began to share his food with him as well, having noticed that the scrawny kid never seemed to eat anything, not even at lunchtime. From then on, Ned seemed to have made it his mission to get the shy kid to talk to him. And after a few months, he succeeded.

Peter eventually found himself searching out the kid, excitement racing through him at the prospect of talking to his... _friend._ The word had felt weird on his tongue at first. But after a while, Ned made it normal. He made having a _friend_ normal. That in itself was more than Peter could ask for.

From then on, the pair was inseparable.

Throughout the rest of middle school, the two were always seen together, ranting about the latest movie, arguing over who would win in a hypothetical fight, or simply wondering about the newest Lego sets. For what most kids at school could see, the two boys were your average best friends.

But then there were the things they _didn't_ see.

They didn't see Ned's concerned looks whenever Peter showed up with bruises on his arms; how the boy always tried to keep Peter's mind preoccupied with inane things like Legos and Star Wars movies instead of his _actual_ problems; how he would beg his mom to allow Peter to stay over for dinner, hoping to keep the kid as far away from his own house for as long as possible; how he'd comforted the boy that one time as he sobbed behind the gym bleachers after a particularly _rough_ morning.

They didn't see how Ned tried to help with things that nobody else ever seemed to see.

"How was your weekend?" The bubbly boy asked with a large grin. Whatever the time or day, Ned always tried his hardest to grin extra-wide for Peter, hoping that his smile could somehow become infectious and spread to the kid.

The boy stole a glance down towards Peter's arms and felt an uneasy feeling stir in his stomach as he took notice of the fact that Peter's long sleeves went all the way down to his wrists, effectively hiding any skin from sight. However, the boy still held a smile on his face, so Ned knew things couldn't have been too bad.

Peter couldn't help the small chuckle that bubbled out of his mouth. He'd been itching to tell Ned his latest development for the past three days. After all, Ned knew _everything_ there was to know about him. "Dude, you will not believe it." He breathed out, wide eyes locking onto the boy in front of him. "On Friday, when I got home, _Tony Stark_ was at my house."

Ned's eyes grew twice as large. "Shut up, no he was not!" He gasped, though he knew it obviously had to be true. Peter wasn't one to lie...at least, not to _him. "W-well...I m-mean..._ what did he want?!" The boy practically screeched.

"He came by to offer me a part of his grant from the September Foundation, and then offered me an internship at Stark Industries."

Alright, well...maybe there was _one_ tiny little minuscule thing that Peter maybe forgot to mention to the boy.

Ned didn't know he was Spider-Man.

The boy let out a shocked scoff. "You _cannot_ be serious! You got an internship at Stark Industries?!" Ned shouted much louder than anticipated, many people in the hallway giving then strange glances.

Peter winced slightly at the shout before leveling his friend a small glare. "Well, you didn't have to tell the entire block." He muttered with a roll of his eyes, something Ned completely ignored as he continued to fan-girl.

"Not bad, Parker. Guess this explains why you weren't at the Decathlon meet on Saturday." Peter visibly jumped as Michelle walked up. As usual, the girl's hair was messy and unkempt, hanging down around her eyes as she leveled him a stare. The boy let out a small breathy laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Y-yeah...sorry a-about that. I...I meant to text you guys, but we were...k-kinda busy. Plus this was kinda out of the blue, you know?" He said hesitantly.

MJ rolled her eyes. "Whatever, nerd. It's fine." She smirked. "Though I assume this won't get in the way of any more of our meets." She asked with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing glare.

Peter held out his hands in surrender. "No, no, no! Don't worry about that. The internship's only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so Tuesday and Thursday are still free for practice." He explained hurriedly. MJ regarded him for a moment before deciding his answer was satisfactory, giving a small nod of her head.

Michelle Jones, known to most as MJ, was head of the Decathlon Team. After joining the team a few months back, Peter and Ned had been quick to meet the girl...well, Ned had been quick. Peter had basically been dragged along. As usual, the boy had been incredibly nervous around the newcomer, but after a while, he'd slowly warmed up to her. Now, apart from Ned, she was one of his best friends...at least he _thought_ they were friends. It was hard to really get a read on the girl.

"Got to say, I'm mildly surprised you're interning with Stark Industries and not with your dad's company." She pointed out, giving the boy a questioning look. Ned noticed Peter instantly tense at the mention of his father, the boy letting out another nervous chuckle. "I...I know. I thought it w-was a little weird, too. B-but I'm not...not complaining."

"Seriously? Penis Parker got an internship with _Tony Stark?_ Yeah, and I'm Spider-Man."

All three friends had to swallow down their simultaneous sighs as they turned around, meeting the smug expression of one Flash Thompson. The boy flashed (hehe) them a cocky grin as he rolled his eyes. Ned frowned as he glared at the approaching boy. "What do you want, Flash?" He muttered.

The boy smirked back at them. "Nothing. I'm just showing an interest in our fellow classmate's endeavors. So...you're buddy-buddy with Tony Stark, huh?" He asked, elbowing Peter in the ribs. "That's surprising considering you barely ever open your mouth, let alone around someone like Stark."

Peter took a step back and leveled the boy a glare. "What do you care?" He mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Flash shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just shocked is all. I never knew you were so desperate for attention that you'd make up such a specific lie." He chided. "That's usually how ya' get caught, you know. Everybody knows the key is to keep it simple." He sneered.

Peter rolled his eyes and tried to step around the boy only for Flash to jump back into his path. Ned narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. "Leave him alone, would ya', Flash. It's none of your business." He growled out.

Flash let out a laugh as he caught sight of the annoyed glared he was getting. "Oh come on! You can't actually believe that Parker got an internship at Stark Industries!"

"It's more believable than _you_ getting one." MJ muttered just loud enough for them all to hear. Ned and Peter tried and failed to stifle their laughs while Flash let out an indignant scoff before narrowing his eyes, violently shoving past Parker as he walked away.

Peter shot the girl a grateful look right as the bell rang above their heads. MJ merely winked at him as the trio began to make their way towards first period. Stepping through the open doorway, Peter walked through the line of desks before he found his usual spot, grasping the back of his chair as he sat down, plopping his backpack down next to him. Ned, as usual, sat across from him while MJ took the seat in front of the boy.

As the next few minutes past, more and more kids began to shuffle into the classroom, looks of boredom and sluggishness present as they plopped down in their respective seats. Peter could make out the shuffling of their feet, the _thunking_ of their backpacks as they fell to the floor, the soft tapping of thumbs against phone screens. He winced as the bell rang once more, the sharp noise piercing through his ears like an ice pick.

Shaking away the uneasy feeling, Peter rested his head on his fist as he heard feet approaching the door, Mr. Malbrick slowly trudging into the classroom. The man looked just as excited as one _could_ be at the idea of teaching English to a bunch of high-schoolers all day. _Could be worse, man._ Peter mumbled in his head as he watched the man drop his stuff off at his desk before turning back to the students.

"Good morning, children." He mumbled, eyes heavy and shirt disheveled. He'd obviously had a _busy_ weekend. "I hope you're all ready for another exciting day, cause I sure am." He deadpanned, the words tumbling from his mouth before falling lifelessly to the floor where they slowly withered and died.

Peter, Ned, and MJ exchanged amused glances as the man instructed them to all take out their copies of Julius Caesar, but Peter was barely listening as he distractedly placed the book on his desk. His mind was elsewhere.

He actually had something to look forward to after school. Usually, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were the worst out of his week, well...you know, except for the weekends. Those _sucked_. After all, on those days there was no Decathlon practice. There was nothing keeping him from going home.

Usually, he'd trudge home as slowly as humanly possible, sometimes even going as far as to _"miss"_ his train home. Once he got there, he'd do his chores and homework _and_ cook dinner all at the _same time_. If he was lucky, he'd be able to finish everything up before five-thirty, which was when the Cons got home from wherever they went during the day. If so, he'd silently give them their dinner and then finish up on the rest of his chores.

That was usually when his father got home. That was when the _really_ fun stuff started.

A few hours later would find Peter sore and miserable, something the Cons found no guilt in. Resigning himself to take a shower, finish his homework in his room and go to bed, Peter would head upstairs.

Only that was never what he actually did.

As soon as it hit eight-thirty, Spider-Man was on the clock, and Peter Parker wouldn't have to worry about anything else until the next morning . . . . at four'o'clock _sharp._ Dad liked to start things early.

Anyways, it was for these reasons that Peter usually wasn't too happy on Mondays. But today things were different. Today he didn't have to wonder about which path to the train station would take the longest. He didn't have to stress about whether or not they had enough food for dinner tonight.

Today he didn't have to worry about any of that.

Mr. Milbrick was right. Today _was_ going to be an exciting day.

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Private Lab 1**

 **11:23 a.m.**

Today was going to be a _horrible_ day.

Tony was seriously considering going into the kitchen and downing every single last bottle of alcohol they had, and that was a _lot._ That'd be enough to kill him, right?

. . . . . Naw...he wasn't lucky enough for that...

The man was currently working down in his lab...well, not really _working_...more like repeatedly slamming his head down on the metal table in front of him while his robots looked on in...concern? He didn't know, they were making all sorts of beeping noises that _could have_ been concern.

Tony could argue that there were _many_ reasons as for why he was currently working to cave his head in, but if he was really being honest, he knew there was one reason that really stood out like a sore thumb...

Peter Parker.

Tony let out a muffled groan at just thinking of the kid's name. Now that he'd had time to adjust and rethink his actions from the day before, he was really beginning to appreciate just how _fucked_ he truly was. It was almost poetic. Like a goddamn Shakespearean tragedy. Granted, it was unlikely that they'd all end up dead in the end but . . . actually, that wasn't too far off from the most likely outcome.

Hmmm... maybe they'd write a book about this.

If so, he could think of a few appropriate titles, the most fitting being: _Tony No, Tony_ _Stop,_ and _Fucking Hell, Tony! Way To Royally Screw Up An Impressionable Young Mind!_

They'd sell millions.

The main thing that was making the billionaire's stomach play hopscotch with his intestines was the fact that Peter was coming to the Tower today. Peter was coming to the _fucking_ tower...TODAY! He'd be alone with the fourteen-year-old for three frikkin hours! No, he'd have to figure out how to not accidentally _destroy_ the kid for three frikkin hours.

Even better!

 _How. *_ thunk _* The. *_ thunk _* Fuck. *_ thunk _* Did. *_ thunk _* I. *_ thunk _* Agree. *_ thunk* _To. *_ thunk* _This?!_ The man screamed mentally at himself as he simultaneously bashed his head against the table.

All the doubts and fears from before he'd agreed to intern Peter were beginning to bubble in his stomach once again, and they made him want to tear his hair out. He had _no_ idea how to handle a kid - NO! How to handle a _teenager,_ which were basically just kids with a _teeny, tiny_ demon inside of them.

Alright, safe to say Tony Stark didn't really have much experience when it came to kids, but that's what they were like . . . _right?_ It was certainly what _he_ had been like.

"Yes, well we're not _all_ like Tony Stark, are we? Thank god, for that actually. I don't think I'd be able to survive."

Tony visibly jumped at the new voice, turning towards the lab entrance to see Pepper walking in, a smirk adorning her face.

 _Shit. Did I say all of that out loud?_

 _Welp . . . ._

"What are you doing worrying about kids all of a sudden?" The woman asked, quirking an eyebrow at the man as she stopped in front of him. Her smile instantly shifted into a shocked frown as she leveled the man a hard stare. "Who called you?" She muttered.

Tony gave her a confused look before his brain caught up to what she was implying, lifting his hands in surrender. "Nobody called me, Pepper. God, you kidding?" He huffed, the woman shrugging her shoulders. "Well with your history, it's not too far-fetched." She muttered.

Tony threw her an empty glare as he let out a sigh, rising up from his chair before running a hand down his face. "Nope, but I've done something that's equally as stupid." He moaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Pepper threw him a look as her eyes narrowed, fists settling on her hips in her usual _'My job is basically taking care of a giant man-baby billionaire'_ stance. "What did you do?" She asked not unlike a mother scolding her child.

The billionaire glanced at her before resting on the edge of the table, closing his eyes as he let out a breath. "Itookanintern." He mumbled out.

"You did a what now?"

". . . . . I took an intern."

Pepper blinked at him in surprise before her eyebrows furrowed. "You took an intern?" She echoed, shaking her head slightly as she stepped closer. "But I... I thought you agreed not to _take_ any interns. If I remember correctly, you said if you wanted a bumbling idiot following at your heels, you'd just walk into Oscorp and-"

"I know what I said, Pepper!" He growled out much harsher than he'd expected. Quickly realizing his mistake, he mumbled out an apology and lowered his head, rubbing at his chest as he groaned. "I . . . I _know_ what I said. But..." He paused, fighting himself on just _how much_ he should tell the woman. After all, he wasn't too sure how she'd react in finding out just how young the hero he'd enlisted to fight Captain _frikkin_ America was...well, _is._

Pepper seemed to notice Tony's reluctance as she moved closer. The past couple weeks had been . . . _rough_ to say the least. After all, the couple couldn't really call themselves a _couple_ anymore. The fact still pained the woman, but she knew it was for the best. She just couldn't take watching the man she loved work himself to the ground and experience near-death situations on a daily basis.

There was only so much she could handle.

Still, that didn't mean she didn't care for the man. He was still one of her best friends. She still _loved_ the man with all her heart, and she knew he was heading into some troubled times ahead. Heck, just the sight of him after he'd returned from Siberia had made her nearly break down into tears.

So yeah, watching the man struggle to find words as he stood before her rang some alarms. But, as usual, she knew she had to play this smart. She wasn't too worried though. She was fluent in the language of Tony Stark.

She placed a hand on the man's shoulder, Tony's gaze rising to meet hers. "What's going on?" She asked softly.

Tony stared back at her for a moment before he let out a reluctant sigh. "Look, I know this is pretty unusual, and it _definitely_ isn't something I'd _ever, ever_ agree to..."

"But...?" Pepper coaxed, noticing the man pause.

The billionaire rubbed his sore neck. " _But_...there's something . . . . _strange_ about this kid.

Pepper raised a brow. "Good strange or...?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't know. He asked me the same thing and I still don't know." He murmured. "Some of it's good..." he breathed out. "Some of it's...some of it's _really_ good, Pep." He chuckled slightly. "I mean, I haven't spent much time with the kid, but from what little I _have_ seen, it's. . ." He paused slightly before continuing. "It's really good. He's really good."

Pepper regarded the man and his words for a moment before giving a small nod. "Alright. . . . how about' the other part?"

Tony glanced back up at her before lowering his gaze once again, shaking his head slowly. "Umm . . . you know that feeling you get when you just _know_ something is really, really wrong, but you just can't really explain it?" He asked.

The woman hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. "Yeah, I think I can say I've felt something like that." She muttered. After all, ever since the whole _'I am Iron Man'_ incident, she'd been feeling that exact feeling for who knew how long. "But what does that have to do with this?" She asked.

Tony let out another sigh. "I don't know, Pep. There's a small part of me that's wondering if maybe I'm just overreacting..." He murmured before stopping. Just how much of this should he really share? Something told him the kid wasn't too keen on other people knowing about his predicament. Tony stole a glance up at Pepper, the woman looking at him expectantly. He knew he could trust Pepper. But still, this was . . . a _touchy_ subject.

The man thrummed his fingers against the cold metal table below him. He'd just have to play it by ear. "Look, this kid is . . . _troubled._ I . . . I just want to help him, Pepper." He finally settled on, wincing at how the words sounded coming out of his mouth. He knew the woman would definitely have questions from that.

Pepper _definitely_ had questions from that.

However, simply from the look Tony was currently giving the floor, she knew the man was extremely hesitant to elaborate, for whatever reason. For the time being, she could only assume that was all she was getting from him.

"Alright . . . well, that doesn't seem _too_ bad, Tony." She finally said. "So what the heck are you freaking out about?"

Tony instantly shifted his demeanor, pushing off of the table as he began to pace back and forth around the lab. " _Everything,_ Pepper!" He shouted. "I'm still reeling from the fact that I even _offered_ an internship! Now I have to deal with...with a _teenager_ running around here?" He gaped, turning back to her with a wide-eyed expression. "How, how, _how_ am I supposed to deal with this kid? I mean, I barely even associate with people under the age of 25. At the most, I give a couple speeches here and there, and even then, I have a thoroughly vetted script hanging in front of my damn face!" He shouted.

"I do not mix with kids, Pepper. Any reaction is sure to be explosive. I mean, hell! The one kid I ever really _did_ interact with nearly _died_ because of me! And that was only for one night! This kid's going to be coming by three days a week!" He ran a hand through his hair as he shakily sat back down in his chair from before.

He rested his head in one hand as he let out another groan. "I _cannot_ mess this up, Pepper. This kid . . . this kid already has enough on his plate as it is. I can't mangle him anymore." He moaned. "But that's all I can foresee in the future cause in case you didn't know, I'm Tony _frikkin_ Stark. I. Am. Not. Good. With. Kids!" He let out a muffled huff as he buried his head in his hands.

Pepper could only blink in shock for a moment as the man finally finished his rant. It'd been a while since he'd blown off steam like that. Boy, she'd really have to meet this kid. Now she was interested.

Walking over, she knelt down on the ground in front of the man's chair and slowly pulled his hands away from his face. His tired eyes met hers. "Tony, listen to me. I know kids have never really been your area of expertise, and I know you're probably really worried about this. But I really think you should cut yourself some slack." She smiled.

"I mean, _you're_ the one who offered the kid the internship in the first place. _You're_ the one who's concerned about him. If you weren't, you wouldn't be freaking out this much. And that's a _good_ thing, Tony." She stressed. "It's good you're nervous cause that means you _care._ " She explained, Tony raising a brow at this. "You obviously care about this boy, at least a little bit, or else you'd be treating this the same way you treat your board meetings." She grumbled, the man flashing her a small smirk at the obvious jab.

"I'm sure everything is going to be fine, Tony. Besides, you're not alone in this. You have me. You have Rhodes. And. . . well, I'd say Vision could help you out, but you never know. He _still_ can't seem to wrap his head around _doors."_ She muttered, Tony chuckling softly at this.

The man stared back at the woman for a moment before a small smile formed on his face. He let out a sigh as he rubbed the side of his face. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Still...this is going to be a _long_ day." He groaned, rubbing his face again.

Pepper felt a small smirk form on her face as the exasperated look the man was currently giving. "So what time can we expect this little guest of yours?" She asked as she slowly began to make her way back towards the door.

"He should be getting here after school."

"Uh-huh . . . and are you expecting the kid to _walk_ all the way here, or are you sending a driver?" She asked, stopping in the doorway.

Tony's face grew thoughtful for a moment before a mischievous grin broke. He reached up towards his ear and pressed down on the piece. "Hey, Happy?"

. . . .

. . . .

 _"Yeah?"_

"You're not doing anything right now, are you?"

"Uhh..."

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Midtown School of Science and Tech - Outer Courtyard**

 **02:25 p.m.**

Peter smiled as he waved goodbye to Ned, the boy doing the same as he walked over to his car where, as usual, his mother was waiting for him. The spiderling watched his best friend's car pull away from the curb before letting out a sigh, trotting down the last few remaining stairs at the school entrance before grabbing a seat on one of the stone pillars next to the doors.

The boy reached behind him and unzipped his backpack, pulling out a small, worn-out copy of _A Clockwork Orange_ , carefully peeling back the cover and the pages he'd already torn through a few days ago, stopping at the last page he'd left dog-earred.

As his eyes began to scan over the words, he couldn't help but do the same to the street before him. A small, nervous frown set onto his face as he pulled his legs up, crossing them underneath him as he rested his elbows on his thighs, holding the open book close to his body as he tried to focus on the page.

It would be here.

Kids milled past the stairs next to him as he tried to concentrate, different cars pulling up to the side, swallowing up one kid or another before driving off again. Each car that stopped made the boy's eyes drift up, instantly earning a silent berating before he'd try to focus back up again. What was he so worried about, anyway?

It would be here.

He continued to relay the words over and over again in his mind. His thigh began to bounce up and down as his fingers drummed against the edge of the page, the paper tensing with each movement. Peter let out a steady breath through his mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip as he cast another worried look up towards the sidewalk.

It would be here.

After another few moments of " _reading"_ , Peter stole another glance up, only to pause. A sleek black car was pulling up to the curb, standing out against the sea of busted minivans and old hand-me-downs like a sleek, shining shark.

The boy simply stared at the car as it stopped, the passenger window rolling down slowly, revealing the face of one not-so- _Happy_ Hogan. The man was currently clenching his fist against the steering wheel, a pissed look adorning his face. "Yo, kid! Let's go!" He shouted before the window rolled up once more.

Peter blinked for a moment before the words seemed to jolt him out of his stupor. Stumbling off of the pillar, he thrust the book back into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, quickly hurrying over to the car before opening the door, sliding into the backseat wordlessly.

Happy threw him a look from the rearview mirror before he let out an annoyed huff, twisting the wheel as he moved back out onto the road. "Can't believe this..." Peter heard the man mutter as he began to wonder whether or not the driver actually intended for him to hear. He was betting more on the _not._

"Tony, I swear I am going to rip you a fucking new one as soon as we get back..." Happy muttered under his breath. "As if I don't have anything better to do than drive some kid around." He glared at the road in front of him.

"I _so_ do _not_ have to deal with this shit anymore. I have a _real_ job now..." He mumbled, the words seeming familiar to him. After all, he'd repeated them often. But it just so happened that he was constantly _having_ to repeat them. But did anybody listen? NO!

" I ain't no _damn_ chauffeur anymore, Stark. especially not to some stupid kid." He whispered angrily to himself.

. . .

. . .

. . .

"S...sorry."

Happy jolted slightly at the small voice that sounded from the back of the car. Glancing back up towards the mirror, he noticed the kid was currently squished into the corner of the seat, his arms wrapped around himself in a seemingly defensive manner. His shoulders were tense as his eyes darted from the floor to the seat next to him.

 _Shit. Forgot he had super hearing._ Happy growled as he stole another glance upwards, a small pang twinging through his heart as he caught sight of how miserable the kid looked. He let out a sigh and lifted a hand off the wheel, rubbing his eyes before placing his elbow on the armrest. "Not your fault, kid." He mumbled. "You know what, just forget I said anything, alright? I'm not mad at _you,_ anyway."

Peter stole a small glance upwards to gaze into the rearview mirror. Upon realizing Happy's face wasn't twisted in a deceitful grin or a malicious scowl, the boy eased up slightly, a small breath escaping his lips as he turned his head, resting his elbow on the car door as he stared at the passing buildings.

As the two fell into tense silence, Peter felt his stomach beginning to churn nervously, though - shockingly - it wasn't from the man currently driving. It was from where they were driving _to._ Of course, if he were asked, Peter would - without hesitation - declare that Stark Tower was a thousand times better than his house right now, it didn't make the nervousness in his chest get any smaller.

Throughout all of his classes, he'd felt nothing but excitement fluttering in his stomach. But now, with nothing standing between him and Tony Stark save for a short car trip, he could feel his anxiety crawling back into his body like a rabid animal trying to hide from the sun. Just like that, all of his worries from before were slowly beginning to eat at him once again.

 _Cool it, Parker. You're fine. Everything's fine . . . Everything's . . . . fine._

The words sounded right in his head, but for some reason, he couldn't get them to reach his stomach, which was still churning dangerously. He knew it was stupid. He knew it was ridiculous to _still_ be freaking out about this, especially considering the fact that Mr. Stark had already explained himself the day before. And yet, Peter couldn't stop himself from rubbing at his collarbone comfortingly.

 _What if I do something stupid?_ _What if I. . . what if I blow something up? Something_ super _important? What if I annoy him? I do that sometimes, don't I? Annoy people? That's...that's like...a_ thing _I do, right? . . . No, NO! That's...that's what Spider-Man does. Spider-Man annoys people. . . cause Spider-Man_ can _annoy people. He can annoy whoever he wants! Cause he's_ Spider-Man!

 _(You're no Spider-Man. You're just Peter Parker. Peter Parker isn't_ allowed _to annoy people. Cause unlike Spider-Man, Peter Parker can't fight back._ You _can't fight back. You_ don't _fight back. It's wrong. It's wrong! You're wrong!)_

Peter let out a small groan as he was jerked out of his thoughts, his body jerking violently. Happy stole him a glance from the front seat, to which Peter merely lowered his gaze and tried to curl in on himself as much as possible.

He'd been doing that way too much recently. Getting buried in his thoughts.

 _His_ thoughts. . . .

Something about that sounded odd. He just didn't know what. Cause . . . cause those _were_ his thoughts . . . . _right?_

Peter didn't have much time to dwell on the question as he felt the car slow. Blinking back into reality, the boy stole a glance outside the window and couldn't help his jaw from dropping open. If he'd been paying attention, he would have caught the small smirk on Happy's face at his reaction.

Instead, his focus was on the _humongous_ building in front of him. Stark Tower was one of the largest buildings in the city, nearly rivaling the Empire State building in terms of greatness. Sure, he'd seen it from afar _plenty_ of times, heck, his balcony had a pretty clear shot of it. But he'd _never_ seen it like this before.

The sleek metal exterior glinted in the sunlight, the numerous windows plastered along the sides adding to the building's reflective quality. From below, the tower seemed to reach all the way up to the clouds, a huge balcony and landing pad visible near the top floors.

As Happy drove the car through a large round-a-bout, Peter noticed that the entrance way was nearly as grand as the building itself. Coming in from the street was a long sleek driveway that rounded out around the entrance of the building. In the center of the asphalt river stood a large lush path of greenery that was nearly the size of a large pool. In it stood a gushing fountain as well as a few plants and flowers that were obviously well-attended to.

Peter didn't even register that the car had stopped until his car door suddenly swung open.

He jumped back slightly before realizing that Happy had exited the car and was now staring at him expectantly. Blinking back into focus, the boy fumbled with the seatbelt before tossing his backpack over his shoulder, mumbling a strew of apologies to Happy as he quickly stumbled out of the car.

Peter kept a steeled grip on the strap of his backpack as his fingers fiddled with the hem of his jeans. Happy didn't seem to take much notice as he walked past him, Peter quickly falling in line behind him as he fought to keep his eyes locked on the ground.

Yeah, that idea quickly flew out the window as they stepped inside the building.

Walking through the large doors, Peter couldn't help but stare at the room around him. First off, the lobby was _huge!_ In the center of the room stood a circular receptionist's desk, complete with a secretary currently typing away on a computer that was definitely more expensive than all of the technology in Peter's school combined. Along the left wall stood a row of plush leather chairs and couches while a sleek transparent door stood in the center of the wall. A high-tech keypad sat on the wall next to it.

On the other side of the room sat another pair of transparent doors, which - if the large windows that made up most of the wall displayed anything - led out to another area of parking on the other side of the building. Around the walls also stood a number of different plants and even a few trickling fountains that sent a soft steady noise throughout the entire room.

Past the receptionist, there was a large archway that framed a long hallway, the entrance blocked by a row of short metallic barricades, each complete with their own scanners. Lifting his head, Peter noticed that the second-floor railing was also visible, a number of people milling around above him. Finally, hovering at least twenty feet above the receptionist's desk flew a holographic projection of the building logo, the image slowly rotating as it hovered.

Peter couldn't help the small excited grin that spread onto his face as he gazed around the room like a kid at Disney World. He'd only ever been to his father's actual building around a handful of times, and it had _nothing_ on this place. And this was just the frikkin _lobby!_

The kid was jolted from his thoughts as Happy turned to look at him. "I'll be right back." He muttered as he began to head towards the main hallway, glancing back over his shoulder as he did so. "And _don't_ touch anything." He called.

Peter watched the man walk away before fiddling awkwardly with his fingers, unsure of what to do. Around him, people continued to mill around, different clipboards, charts and/or papers filling their hands as they did. Realizing he was more or less in the way, Peter took notice of the chairs sitting up against the far side wall.

Slowly making his way over, he took a seat and watched as the workers skimmed by, each looking incredibly busy. _I wonder if it's this busy over at Stark Industries._ The boy thought to himself. After all, this building wasn't the company's main location, and yet it seemed just as busy as one.

Peter probably shouldn't have been so surprised. After all, Stark Industries was one of the most widely known companies _worldwide_. Obviously, they couldn't deal with having just one point of business.

And yet, watching the crowd of scientists and workers whizzing past in a constant flowing rate, Peter couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed. The chattering of colleagues, the whirring of machines and the beeping of computers all seemed to jumble together into a massive wave of cacophony that threatened to bowl the kid over. Peter felt his knee bouncing up and down as his fingers clamped down around the edge of the seat. The chaos around him didn't help to alleviate his past anxieties at all. In fact, they probably were just making them worse.

 _Get a grip, Parker. You're fine. Everything's fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. Mr. Stark's going to come. He's going to prove that this isn't some sick joke. This isn't a joke. It's not a lie. It's not a lie. It's not a lie._

Once again, Peter felt himself falling into a trap of repeating the same words over and over again, continuously fighting to convince himself of the things he was saying. And yet, the boy couldn't help the slight twinge in the back of his head that wondered if whether or not this was actually real; that any minute now, his father and the Cons were going to spring out behind one of the walls and drag him back home, a laughing Tony Stark in the background.

 _They wouldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't do that._

 _(How do you know? You don't even know the guy.)_

. . .

 _I_ don't _know. . . ._

. . .

Oh, god…

"Hey, kid."

Peter let out a loud yelp, flinging himself backward in shock, the chair scraping painfully against the tile floor at his movements. Tony's reaction was all too similar, the man leaping backward as he retracted his arm. "Jesus Christ, kid!" He huffed, placing a hand over his heart as he fought to reign his breathing back under control. "You're gonna have to stop doing that." He muttered, casting the boy a strange look.

Peter gazed at the man for a moment before a light blush fell over his cheeks. "S-sorry . . . y-you startled m-me." He murmured quietly.

"Yeah, I kind of got that." Tony smirked as Peter cautiously rose up to his feet. Turning towards the boy, Tony opened his mouth, only to realize he had no clue what to really say. He felt a slight grimace fall over his face as he inhaled through his teeth. Peter also seemed to feel just as awkward as he locked his gaze onto his feet, wringing his hands tightly before moving them behind him back, suddenly unsure of where to put them. He twisted the tip of his toe against the tile underneath, a soft squeak sounding from the movement.

"So. . . ." Tony breathed, drawing out the word for as long as he could, if only to buy himself a little more time. _God, how the hell do I do this?_

"H-how was school?"

. . .

. . .

 _Geez, you're a moron._

Peter stole a quick glance up, blinking at the man with those large brown eyes before lowering his gaze once more. "I-it was fine. . ." He said softly. "W-we...we had an algebra quiz. I-it was...easy . . ." He murmured, soft brown curls falling into his face.

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "R-right, right." He breathed. _Man, not even two minutes and you're already fucking up. Must be a new record._ He growled to himself. He was almost impressed.

If he could look in on the situation as a third party, Tony was almost one hundred percent sure he would be laughing his butt off at the irony of the situation. Here was Tony Stark, a man who'd given thousands of presentations, some to people as high on the social ladder as you can possibly go, without even breaking a sweat. Heck, he'd held dozens of conversations with the president, taking one even while he was working on building a new coffee machine that didn't cut him off when it felt he'd had enough - _damn thing_ , and he'd handled it like it was nothing.

And yet, here he was, standing in front of a scrawny, nervous little fourteen-year-old boy who currently looked like he could throw up at any second, totally speechless.

Like he said before, he was almost impressed.

 _Alright, get it together, Stark._ He muttered to himself as he quickly tried to refocus, reaching into his suit pocket as he did so.

Peter blinked and looked up as a laminated security badge was held out to him. "Umm. . ." He started, only for Tony to cut him off. "All my workers have one, and, now that you're an employee of mine, you have one too." He said with a smirk.

The boy stared at the plastic card for a moment longer before tentatively reaching his hand out, slowly pulling the card into his hand, flipping it over so he could get a better look at it. In the top left corner sat a small picture of him, presumably his yearbook picture from a few months ago. Along the left edge of the card was a thin vertical barcode, and imprinted along the bottom sat the company logo, the words _Peter Parker: Head Intern_ placed just below his picture, along with _Level 3 Beta Access._

"Aren't I your only intern?" The boy asked, gazing back up at Tony. The man shrugged. "Yeah, but that _technically_ means you _are_ the Head intern." He quipped.

Peter glanced back down at the badge before a small smile graced his lips. "Awesome." He breathed quietly, the words just loud enough for Tony to catch. A similar look passed onto his own face before he quickly blinked back into reality, wiping it away as he guided Peter over to the main hall.

Raising up his arm, the suit of Tony's sleeve slid down just enough for the boy to catch sight of a sleek metal bracelet on his wrist. Guiding his hand over to the security scanners on the barriers, Tony pressed his wrist down on the scanners.

" _Level 5 Alpha Access; Tony Stark - Access Granted"_

Peter jumped slightly at the new voice, Tony giving him a strange look to which he responded with a slight blush. The man snorted before glancing up towards the ceiling. "That's just FRIDAY, kid. The AI system around here." He raised up his hands before gesturing towards Peter. "Mr. Parker, FRIDAY. FRIDAY, Mr. Parker."

" _Hello, Mr. Parker. It's a pleasure to meet you."_ The feminine voice called down from the ceiling.

Peter blinked up in shock for a moment before clearing his throat. "Um...h-hello?" He stuttered out, Tony leaning down towards him. "I suggest you get acquainted with her." He said as the barriers parted, allowing the pair through the blockades. "Welp, let's get started, shall we?" Tony mused, a smirk playing on his lips as he guided Peter down the hallway and out into another open area.

Here, there was a large room with clear glass walls along the right side while a number of different couches and tables sat on the right. Inside the room, a large conference table, numerous chairs and a huge whiteboard with different graphs and charts could be seen.

Farther back into the room, a long escalator could be seen, leading up to the second floor. "This is usually where I'm dragged over for board meetings and press conferences." Tony explained with an overdramatic sigh. Peter let out a small chuckle as the two stepped onto the escalator.

"I-I got to s-say, Mr. Stark," Peter stuttered out. "This is all s-super impressive." He beamed as he turned to the man, a nervous smile playing his features.

Tony couldn't help the snort that fell out at the kid's words, Peter's face contorting slightly in mild confusion. The man let out a pleased sigh as he clapped the kid on the shoulder. "Ahh...kid, you haven't seen anything yet." He smirked as the escalator dropped them off on the second floor.

Peter was just about to ask the man what he meant as the pair walked forward towards the railing when his eyes caught sight of what was down below them.

His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew twice as wide as he rushed over to the ledge, leaning against the railing as he gazed down at the sight below them.

"Woah. . . ."

Below them, there were at least a hundred people milling around the room, passing papers, sharing holographic images or simply typing at their stations. The space reminded Peter of a hockey rink, both in size and in shape. Different tables lay scattered around the room, each projecting different holograms into the air a few inches above the surface. The computers atop the hundreds of desks were all of a similar fashion, the rapid taping of keys reaching Peter's ears. Along the back wall, he noticed the floor dipped down and converted into a staircase that led to a lower level, a transparent wall that reached only a few feet off the ground stopping any from going down and/or falling through.

However, despite the chaos below him, it was the sight in the center of the room that really had him captivated. A large transparent cylindrical tube, around the same diameter of a hot tub, stretched up from the floor all the way to the ceiling. Inside, a bright stream of blue energy crackle and sparked violently as it flowed through like a waterfall.

Tony couldn't help the small chuckle that passed from his lips as he caught sight of Peter's face, the boy's eyes nearly popping out of his face. And this wasn't even the most interesting part of the tower. The kid so was not going to survive.

"I-is that. . ." Peter asked hesitantly.

"Yep. That's the arc reactor that powers the entire building." Tony explained. "Well. . . it's the energy from it. The reactor itself is under the building." Peter nodded his head before turning back to look out over the sea of workers.

Tony tapped a knuckle against the metal railing, catching the boy's attention once more. "Come on, enough of this boring stuff. We got better things to look at." He smirked as Peter gaped at him. "There's more?"

The billionaire winked at him. "Much more." He motioned for the kid to follow him towards the elevator. "Come on."

 **. . . . .**

"You know...I've never been very religious, but if there is a God, then this has to be heaven."

Tony let out a laugh at Peter's words as the kid stared through the glass, eyes practically bulging out of his head.

They were currently on one of the higher levels of the tower, looking in on one of the more bigger labs in the tower. Safe to say, Peter was practically drooling at this point. Though Tony had to admit, if he didn't constantly walk through this hall almost every day, he'd probably be doing the same.

Inside, numerous scientists and inventors snaked through the room, which, like the offices beforehand, also had a visible column of arc energy in the center. Though, this room made much better use of it.

Variations of different robots either rolled, flew or walked through the room as well, dropping off papers, conducting small electrical corrections or simply organizing files along the back wall.

Many different tables lay scattered around the room, numerous holograms hovering mere inches from the surface. The projections ranged from the latest Stark Phone models to machines in use around the tower to the reactor itself.

Tony stole a glance over at Peter and had to bite back another laugh as the boy was practically _licking_ the glass at this point. "These guys have the _best_ job in the entire _world_." The kid breathed out as he continued to stare at the scientists and engineers as they passed through the room.

The billionaire regarded the teen next to him for a moment. He had been quick to notice a pattern with the kid's speech. Whenever he was too engrossed in the sights and wonders around him, his stutter seemed to dissipate, almost as if his brain was too busy focusing on the sights to interfere with his speech. That in itself made Tony smile, though he'd never admit to the reasoning behind it.

"How are our power levels?" Tony called through the intercom on the side wall. The woman currently standing in front of the projection turned to look at him before reaching up and pressing her earpiece. "Arc levels are at one hundred percent, sir." She called, Tony giving a small nod before glancing back down at Peter.

"Come on, kid." He called as he exited the hallway. Peter quickly rushed after him, falling in line behind the man as he walked quickly and purposefully. Tony stole a glance at his watch before lifting up his gaze once more. "You know, I'm debating whether or not we should visit the cafeteria." He mused aloud. "Cause I mean, it's not bad per say, but there's only so much my Stark magic can do to make those places any less depressing than they usually are." He muttered as he glanced over his shoulder, only to pause as he noticed Peter was no longer behind him.

Turning back, he noticed the kid was standing a little farther down the hall, staring through the glass wall that displayed the city before it. His fingers fiddled with the zipper of his jacket as he stared out at the skyline.

The sky was slowly beginning to turn a lighter shade of blue, streaks of golden-pink clouds cutting through the sea of color. Street lamps were only now beginning to flicker to life, as well as the lights in the surrounding buildings.

Peter continued to stare out at the scene as Tony made his way to stand next to him, sharing the sight as well. "Nice view." Peter murmured softly, eyes never leaving the glass.

Tony shrugged. "You should see it from the top floor. It's unbeatable." He smirked.

The boy next to him remained silent for a moment longer before he lifted his gaze to meet the billionaire's. "M-Mr. Stark?" He called softly, Tony lowering his head to meet his flickering stare. "I-I just . . ." The boy stuttered for a moment before a small smile graced his lips.

"Thank you. . . for all o-of this." He said quietly. "This is. . . . t-this is more than I c-could ever ask for. I mean, I'm pretty s-sure this has been the single greatest day of...of my life." He beamed, smile growing as he ran a hand through his hair. "A-and I know you're probably super busy, cause I mean, y-you're Tony Stark. W-when are you not busy?" He murmured before turning back to look at the man.

"But you still took the time t-to...to actually do all of this for me and...and I just. . . thank you." He said again, eyes going wide in excitement as he turned back to view the inside of the building. "Cause I mean... this place is just. . . it's _awesome!_ " He beamed, eyes gleaming as a large grin split his face. The look quickly reminded Tony of just how young the boy was as he began to ramble on about how incredible his building was. The man couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as well. Only, it wasn't his usual _Stark_ smile, as Pepper and Rhodey liked to call it. It wasn't the smile he plastered on for cameras and board directors.

It was actually. . . genuine.

Huh, weird.

. . . .

. . . .

Probably didn't mean anything.

As Peter continued to rant to Tony about everything they'd seen so far, even going as far as to begin gesturing grandly, he suddenly paused, a look of realization seeming to pass over his face, quickly morphing into nervousness. He paused, a worried look falling over his face as he rubbed the back of his neck.. "S-sorry. I'm rambling, aren't I?" He whispered, lowering his gaze back down to the ground as his shoulders tensed slightly.

Tony blinked down at the kid, a slight flicker of shock coursing through him at the kid's sudden change in demeanor. He'd noticed the boy do it many times throughout the past few hours, and each time, the man grew more and more confused.

It usually started with Peter hesitantly voicing a few thoughts, which in turn, led to soft-spoken speaking, usually while he was messing with his fingers or the hem of his shirt or something like that. But, on a few rare occasions, Tony would notice that the kid seemed to relax slightly, his muscles losing some of their tenseness. It was then that the boy would begin to actually speak freely.

And Tony had to admit . . . he kind of liked it. Sure, others might find it slightly annoying for the kid to start rambling, usually about the strangest of things, Tony found it slightly refreshing.

More often than not, the people he usually talked to were very careful and precise in what they said to him, picking and choosing their words carefully as to not give away anything they didn't want to. But Peter, well. . . Peter was just a kid. Once he got going on something that interested him, he'd usually take it as far as he could, the words seeming to tumble out of his mouth. Whether he realized he was doing it or not, Tony didn't know, though he'd probably bet on the not. But despite the brow-raising tendency, Tony couldn't help but smirk and shake his head as the kid rambled away. For once he did, the man noticed many other things changed with Peter as well.

He'd lift his gaze away from the floor and focus more on either Tony or whatever it was he was rambling on about. He'd stop wringing his hands and sometimes even gesture what he was saying. His stutter also greatly diminished, sometimes even disappearing altogether, and the smile that lit up the boy's face . . . Tony was almost certain the room had brightened a little whenever he did so. Don't ask him how. He still didn't know.

It just did.

And yet, on the other hand, when Peter would finally realize what he was doing. . . .

The kid seemed to flick some sort of switch, because he'd instantly clam up once again, lowering his gaze as he mumbled out apology after apology, muscles recoiling in tension.

Tony would be lying if he said the sight didn't freak him out a little bit.

The other times, the man had simply let it go, desperately trying to ignore that lingering twinge in his chest that screamed something wasn't right. _It isn't your problem_. He'd told himself. _You're already doing what you can. You can't help with . . . whatever this is. Just let it go. Just. . . let it go._

Yeah, he didn't let it go.

Not this time, at least.

Peter's fingers dug painfully into his arms as Tony moved closer, brown curls shielding his eyes as he lifted his shoulders and shut his eyes.

The billionaire raised a fist up to his mouth and loudly cleared his throat.

"Yoo-hoo. . . Earth to Peter." Tony called, waiting until the kid's eyes met his. "Yeah, hi." He called, a smirk playing on his face as he fought to keep control over his emotions. "Listen, kiddo. . ." He began, voice playful, yet curt, typical of Stark. "You have got to start loosening up. Quit acting like...murderous aliens are about to pop out of the ground, alright? Just cool it, 'kay. Cause in all honesty, you're starting to make me feel paranoid just by looking at you." He muttered.

Peter blinked up at the man for a moment before regarding his words with a look of shame. He bit his lip and lowered his gaze once more, wrapping one arm around himself while the other reached up to rub at his collarbone. "S-sorry. . ." He whispered, the word trickling from his mouth miserably.

Tony couldn't help but grimace at the kid's dejected tone, mentally berating himself for how cold and _dick-ish_ he'd probably just sounded. _Nice, Stark. Cause that's what the kid needs right now - more slander._ He growled at himself, a sick feeling settling in his stomach as he began to realize he'd just sounded very much like his father.

Howard Stark had never been one for comforting words. In fact, he wasn't much for words at all, at least not for Tony. Whenever he did speak to him, it was usually to insult him or express his disappointment, more commonly followed up by a lecture on how Stark men needed to act.

He'd hated it. He'd absolutely _despised_ it. And in turn, that anger and hatred began to project onto his father. Tony had never felt he could ever just talk to the man without being judged harshly. In time, that led to him simply keeping his mouth shut, not even bothering to voice his concerns anymore, for nobody would ever listen.

Tony stole a glance over at Peter, the kid currently looking more or less like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help the sigh that fell from his lips.

The billionaire bit the inside of his cheek before adopting a screw-it mentality as he lifted up his hand.

Peter couldn't help the small breath of shock that huffed from his lips as he felt a hand come to rest gently on his shoulder. He felt his fingers twitch slightly at the touch, but he didn't pull away from it. He did, however, keep his gaze firmly locked on his feet.

"Peter. . ." Tony called, chest twinging when the boy flinched slightly, refusing to meet his gaze. "Hey, you think you can look at me, kiddo?" He called, his voice noticeably softer than before.

The boy's fingers curled around the hem of his jacket as he debated whether or not to heed to the man's words, only to realize it'd probably cause more trouble than worth to ignore him. Slowly, Peter lifted his head, light hazel eyes meeting dark brown.

Tony stared down at the kid for a moment before he let out a small sigh. "In case you can't tell, I'm not very good at this sort of thing." He muttered with a smirk, the emotion not reflected back in the boy. "And I'm pretty sure I'm the _last_ person who should be lecturing you, kid. After all, I barely even know you." He mused, wincing slightly at the downtrodden look that quickly washed over Peter's face.

" _But-"_ He added quickly. "I'm hoping to change that in the future, kid." He explained, squeezing the boy's shoulder gently. "And I don't want you to think you can't say what you want or voice whatever you're thinking, Peter." He said softly, the kid grimacing slightly at that. "I'm not gonna. . . _punish_ you or whatever just for saying what's on your mind."

He grabbed Peter's other shoulder and turned him so that they were both directly facing each other. "Listen to me, kid. I want you to feel safe here. I want you to feel like you can be yourself here, alright?" He asked with a small smile. "So stop being so nervous, kid. Cause you don't got anything to be afraid of, 'kay?" He smirked, patting the boy on the back.

Peter regarded the man in front of him, silently staring back at him with those large hazel eyes. Tony couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw something change in the kid's gaze. The nervousness and anxiety that had been shining behind those large irises slowly began to dissolve, leaving something else in their wake. Awe? Wonder? Tony couldn't tell. But whatever it was, it left those large, shining orbs filled with something different.

Something. . . _brighter._

The teen blinked back at him for a moment longer before a small smile melted onto his face as he lowered his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're not as bad at this as you think." He murmured quietly, flashing Tony a grin.

The billionaire felt a chuckle bubble out of his lips as he patted the kid's shoulder. "Heh, just you wait, kid." He muttered, Peter giving a laugh of his own at that.

The two began to slowly make their way back down the hallway, Peter now walking with his head held a little higher. "You know, kid. You really should ramble on about nonsense more often." Tony remarked. "Your word vomit is _actually_ kind of full of smart ideas once you sort through it." He mused, thinking back to when Peter had spoken about the labs, giving small suggestions and remarks that had actually impressed the genius.

"Woah, hold up! Tony Stark genuinely complimenting someone else without bursting into flame or melting into a puddle of goo?" The pair turned suddenly at the new voice that sounded behind them. "What planet have I landed on?" Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes slowly made his way over to them, a large smirk plastered onto his face as the soft whirring of his leg braces filled the air.

Tony couldn't help the smile that formed on his face as he watched his best friend walk towards them. "Umm...an awesome planet, with _me_ as their victorious overlord." He mused.

"Oh god, just kill me now." Rhodey moaned dramatically as Tony met him halfway, the two exchanging a quick hug before pulling away. "How's it been, man?" Rhodes asked, taking the time to actually look at the man. Apart from a few scratches and a couple bruises that were still visible, it was hard to tell Tony had even been hurt in Siberia at all.

But Rhodey knew. He knew all too well.

Tony gave him a small smirk. "Ah, wonderful as always, Rhodey Dear." He quipped, batting his eyelashes. The colonel rolled his eyes, but said nothing. After all, he was used to his friend deflecting any and all questions he didn't want to discuss. But Rhodey would get it out of him later.

He always did, eventually.

However, his friend's words weren't as dishonest as Rhodes had expected them to be. While it was obvious Tony wasn't actually "fine", he didn't seem as bad as Rhodey had been anticipating. In fact, he could almost detect a hint of a true smile behind his friend's mask.

"Uh-huh," Rhodey muttered as he shook his head, his eyes falling on a sight just behind his friend. He glanced over at Tony and gave him a questioning stare.

Behind his friend stood a small teenage boy who was currently staring at him with wide eyes that flickered between him and Tony. His body was shifted slightly so that Tony stood between him and the colonel, the teen basically hiding behind the billionaire.

"Who's the kid?" Rhodey finally asked, watching as the boy's eyes quickly blin back into focus as he lowered his gaze, rubbing at his collarbone nervously.

Tony stepped to the side, allowing his friend to get a good view of the strange kid before him.

He looked young, no older than sixteen. He was pale and lanky, with a mop of loose, brown curls and large hazel eyes. He wore jeans and a loose shirt with a baggy jacket overtop, though you could still tell just how skinny the kid was despite the loose clothes.

The main thing that caught Rhodey's attention was the way the kid kept his gaze fixed on the ground, his fingers twitching nervously.

Nevertheless, he put on a warm smile and stepped closer, offering out a hand. "Nice to meet you. My name is Colonel James Rhodes. But most people call me either Rhodes or Rhodey." He said calmly.

The teen stared at the man's outstretched hand before flicking his gaze up to meet his face. "I. . . I-I. . . um . . .I'm...I'm P-P. . .P-"

"Peter." Tony finally interjected, placing a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder. "Peter Parker." He stepped closer towards the colonel, cupping his hand so the kid couldn't here. "Would it _kill_ you to stop looking so intimidating? Kid's already freaked enough as it is."

Rhodey gave the man a strange look before glancing back over towards the kid, who looked like he wanted to hurl himself out the nearby window. _Where the heck do you find these people, Tony?_ He muttered to himself as the billionaire straightened out his jacket.

"What are you doing here, anyways Rhodey?" The man asked. "Not that I don't enjoy every living, breathing second I have with you." He smirked.

The man suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at his friend's words. "The meetings in DC finished earlier than expected." He explained. "I was going to swing by the compound when I got back, but Pepper asked me to just come straight here."

Tony's eyebrows furrowed at that. "Pepper?"

"Yes, me."

Once again, heads turned at the new voice.

Pepper smiled as she walked over to the three boys, red hair swishing past her shoulders as she did so. Tony threw her a mock glare. "So, what? You just decided to call in my babysitter?" He muttered, though the woman was quick to catch the gratitude in his eyes at her concern for him.

The woman, as usual, played along. "Well someone has to watch you, and I don't have time in my schedule to bottle-feed you anymore." She muttered, stopping next to the colonel as the two long-time friends exchanged quick pecks on the cheek.

Tony rolled his eyes at her words, the motion causing him to catch a small glimpse of Peter. The boy was currently gripping his side tightly while his other hand stayed firmly placed on his shoulder. The look in his eyes told Tony the increasing number of people in the room weren't doing anything to alleviate his nerves.

Nevertheless, he knew he'd have to introduce the kid to his two closest friends eventually, especially since the kid was going to be at the Tower often. _He might as well get used to them now._ Tony thought to himself as he gently pushed the frozen Peter closer towards the two others.

Pepper gazed at the wide-eyed boy for a moment before a soft smile graced her lips. "Hello, young man." She said, gently. "My name's Pepper Potts. I work over at Stark Industries, but you'll often probably see me around here, too." She explained. "What's your name?"

Peter stared at the woman for a moment, taking in her soft smile and calming words while his brain tried to register whether or not words were a smart choice at the moment, or, better yet, whether words were even going to be _produced_ , cause right now, it was basically fifty-fifty.

However, the gentle smile and calming eyes the woman held made the teen's frantically beating heart calm, if only slightly. Besides, Mr. Stark obviously trusted her and the colonel behind her as well. That had to count for something. . .. right?

Realizing the woman was still waiting for an answer, the teen blinked back into reality and opened his mouth, fighting to push the words out once again. "P-P. . . P. . "

He felt a calming hand on his shoulder.

"P..Peter. Peter P-Parker."

Pepper felt herself stiffen as her smile faltered, eyes flashing in shock as the name reached her ears. "Peter Parker?" She echoed, wondering whether or not she'd heard correctly.

The teen nodded his head, quick to pick up on the woman's shift in demeanor.

Tony, however, hadn't seen the shift in his friend's posture as he clasped Peter on the shoulder. "Yep, Pete here is our newest intern." He said with a smile. "Actually, he's our first intern, but you get the idea."

Rhodey's eyes widened. "Intern?" He asked, casting Tony a questioning look. "Intern?" He repeated.

"Yep, intern. Now, considering we still have around another hour and a half before little Peter here had to head on home, I suggest we go ahead and check out a few more of the upper-house labs for-"

"Hold up! You're telling me that you, _Mr. If I Wanted Some Idiot Following Me Around I'd Just Head Up Over To Oscorp_ , are taking an intern? _Willingly_?!" Rhodey questioned, his tone voicing his shock.

"Yes, pay attention." Tony muttered with a roll of his eyes. He placed a hand on Peter's shoulder as the pair began to make their way back over toward the elevators, the billionaire continuing to chat up a storm as the teen simply gazed up at him with a small smile.

Rhodey watched the two disappear into the elevator, face still clearly showing his shock and confusion as he turned back to Pepper. "Alright, what the hell is going on around here?" He asked her, only to furrow his brow as he caught sight of the woman.

Pepper was currently staring at the ground, eyes narrowed as she chewed on one of her nails, obviously deep in thought. She jumped as Rhodey placed a hand on her arm, turning back to look at the man. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked, gazing at her in slight concern.

The woman stared back at him for a moment before grabbing his arm, quickly dragging him over towards the elevator. "Come on. I have to check something." She stated as the two stepped into the elevator.

"What are you talking about? What's wrong?"

Pepper glanced over at him before shaking her head. "I don't know yet. But I have a bad feeling about something."

Rhodey furrowed his brow. "What do you mean. Bad feeling about what?"

The woman tapped her fingers nervously against the side of her leg. "That kid. Peter. I know I've heard his name before." She explained, the elevator dropping them off on her desired floor.

Quickly stepping off, Rhodey hurriedly followed her as the pair made their way over to the office Pepper used whenever she had work to do at the tower. Stepping inside, the woman quickly sat down at her chair and typed in her password, her computer quickly lighting up.

Rhodey watched with narrowed eyes as the woman began to search through her files, the uneasy feeling in his stomach worsening when she began to dig through the _encrypted_ files. Something was definitely off, then.

"A few months before this whole mess with the Accords, Tony asked me to keep tabs on a growing figure on the internet and social media." She explained, pulling up the videos she'd saved. "Anything that had to do with this guy was marked."

The video showed a red and blue clad figure swinging across the frame. Even though the costume was atrocious and the video was blurry, Rhodey instantly recognized who it was. "Hold up. That's the kid that helped us in Leipzig." He gaped, narrowing his eyes as he tried to get a better view of the figure. "Still don't know where Tony found that guy, but I have to admit, he did help us out." He muttered before turning back towards Pepper. "But what does this have to do with Peter?" He asked.

Pepper turned back towards the computer. "Well, at around the exact same time, Tony also asked me to pull any information I could get on a Peter Parker." She stated, clicking on the kid's file.

Rhodes watched as a picture of the kid from before popped up on the screen, as well as his birth documents, school records, and other sensitive information. "I didn't really understand what the fascination with this kid was, but I didn't question it." She muttered, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the screen, the split view showing both images of Spider-Man and Peter.

"But the main thing that struck me was the coincidental timing between both of these people Tony wanted record of." She explained, turning back towards Rhodes. "After all, Tony might be a bit . . . eccentric at times, but everything he does, he does for a reason. Meaning there was a reason he wanted to know about this kid. There was a reason he wanted their files not only kept together, but also locked with some of our most complicated encryptions and firewalls." She stated. "I knew there had to be a connection. I just didn't know what." She muttered. "I still don't."

Turning back towards the screen, Pepper stared at the images before her. The image of Peter was the same image they'd used for his security pass, a recent yearbook photo. Pepper rubbed at her temple, feeling the start of a headache working its way through her head. She flicked her gaze over towards the frozen image of Spider-Man.

Rhodey let out a small sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck, moving over towards the seat across from Pepper's desk. He winced as he lowered himself into the chair, his legs protesting loudly. He cracked open his eyes for a moment to steal a glance towards the image of the hero before shutting his eyes once more, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "God, that costume is horrible." He muttered. "It wasn't like that in Berlin, thank God. It looks like something a kindergartner would make." He sighed, resting his head against the back of his chair, the weariness from his flight finally getting the best of him.

Pepper, however, was now fully awake. Rhodey's words echoed in her mind as she switched her gaze from Spider-Man to Peter and back.

 _Or something a teenager would make._

"Oh, God. . . ." She breathed softly, chest constricting at the possibility running through her brain.

"What? What is it?" Rhodes asked, lifting her head to stare at her.

Pepper stared at the screen for a moment longer before blinking back into reality, closing down the files with shaky fingers as she focused her gaze on her desk. "Rhodey. . ." She called, not bothering to lift her gaze. She needed to know. She needed to know _now_.

"In Berlin, when you were fighting with Spider-Man, did he...maybe...seem a little... _young_ to you?" She asked hesitantly.

The colonel was now rubbing his eyes again. "Um...yeah. Yeah, he seemed really young. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said he was around, maybe… I don't know...about-"

"About fourteen, maybe fifteen?"

The man furrowed his brow for a moment, opening his mouth to reply before realization hit him harder than a freight train. He instantly shot upright, eyes going wide as he turned to stare at Pepper.

"Oh, no he did _not_!"

Pepper placed her head in her hands as she resisted the urge to groan. "I think he did." She whispered softly.

Rhodey shook his head, rising up to his feet once more. "No. No, no, no. Tony may be a little crazy at times, and sure he can be a bit impulsive. But there's no way he'd ever be stupid and irresponsible enough to-

. . .

. . .

. . .

...son of a bitch."

* * *

 **This chapter was originally going to be** ** _much_** **longer, but considering I've already gone past my desired posting date, I've decided to just split this chapter up between this and the next one. So, I'm sorry to leave you all off on a cliffhanger, it just happened. Oops!**

 **Anyways, the next chapter will clear up this whole mess between the three stooges and our little baby cinnamon roll. Also, you should see a little more interaction between Peter and the Cons in the next chapter, and** ** _definitely_** **some in the chapter after that, so you have** ** _that_** **to look forward to :)**

 **So, thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: _2000ArtisticMMKitties, LIttleRobin02, MySaviorLives43, Sommer3Butter, YouBetterCryKed, ayalove0, guacamole lover, mdeloren, phoenixon, story2tell, throughoutwinter, Empro8, Gabriel Nightingale, lisablade, michi nolet, nibiru23, spidermanpls, EmilyF.6, MoonMagic17484, OlympiaDaPhne, RoseAngel2000, Squee-bunny, StrageKing, ThatDamAlwaysQuote, TroubledFortune, fantasy-Mania31, FowlFanKid13, Jana-Blueberry, Krows Scared, Qwertywerido, , RazzlePazzleDooDot, sleepyPrincess, mixyPI, saranya1555, Emmax101, The Striking Storms, derpywriterlovessupernatural, 125b, DevilishAngel21, Ciaram88, StarSnek, supergrandefan, Jo Laufey, ashleykhl, luckydogpizza_**

 **Comments:**

 **phoenixon : Yeah, For some reason, I have a habit of putting my favorite characters through horrible torture. Oops. Oh well. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. **

**Phoenixhp5 : Gracias! Yeah, I have a tendency of making my readers upset with my torturous methods of making my characters suffer and wish for death. Oh, well!**

 **guacamole lover: AHH! HERE'S WHAT HAPPENS NEXT! Don't worry, I should really be doing homework now, but I don't... :I OH WELL! DOn't die, please! Here's a new update just for you! *places kiss on forehead* Now read! Read, my flock!**

 **BeingMuggle: I know! And you're going to want to kill his father, too! Isn't it so fun!**

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 **EmPro8: Yeah, well thanks. I hope I can make you happy with this story. Also, I've been reconsidering things, so a ship probably isn't' going to happen in this story. I might make a one-shot one of these days but whatever...**

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	4. Rule 3

**Chapter 4: Rule 3**

* * *

 _3) I Will Never Make Eye Contact_

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Lounge and Dining Area**

 **04:32 p.m.**

"Whoa! Seriously?"

"Yep! I took his call when I was right in the middle of working."

". . . awesome. Wait - why were. . . w-why were you making a new coffee machine anyway? Isn't. . . isn't that a little below your average priority?"

Tony let out a huff as he narrowed his eyes. "Not when the _old_ one wouldn't stop cutting me off. Like, really? Who is _it_ to judge how many cups of coffee I can have? It's a damn machine!" He pouted.

Peter giggled beside him, Tony suppressing the urge to do the same as he continued to mope. After the two left Pepper and Rhodey to continue the tour, the billionaire caved and decided to take the teen over to the cafeteria, where Peter confirmed his past suspicions that _nothing -_ _ **BUT**_ _nothing_ could make a cafeteria any less depressing than it usually was, not even Tony Stark.

That's how the pair found themselves sitting on one of the lounge couches near the eating area, staring out the window at the setting sun while sipping on milkshakes. The billionaire had almost fainted when Peter nonchalantly stated he'd never had one before. Not two seconds later, there was an extra large chocolate shake being thrust into his hands.

For the past ten minutes, the two had simply been sitting quietly while Tony chatted away about this thing and that. Most people would have submitted to the urge to roll their eyes and fall asleep out of sheer boredom after five minutes, but not Peter.

Peter was happy to listen. . .

. . . while drinking a milkshake.

Tony was _currently_ recounting all of the conversations he's had with the President over the past couple of years, as well as his annoyance at his appliances for ganging up against him. He still had a sneaking suspicion Pepper had tampered with the coffee machine _somehow_ , but he still didn't know for sure. . .

Just as the man was about to delve into how he'd _accidentally_ "dropped" the old coffee machine out the window on the sixty-third floor, he heard the earpiece on him beep quietly. "Hold up for a sec, kid." He called, raising up his hand as he pressed down on the piece.

" _Tony, we have to talk."_

The man grimaced slightly at the tone of voice Pepper was currently using. That was the _"you've just fucked up big time and now it's time for me to whoop your ass"_ voice.

"Pepper, I'm a little busy here at the moment." He called back, glancing back over towards Peter, who was fighting with his straw as he tried to trap the cherry down at the bottom of his glass.

" _It's important._ "

Uh-oh. Rhodey was there, too? Then he'd _really_ fucked _something_ up. He let out a reluctant sigh as he stood up, Peter's eyes following him as he did so. "I'll be right there." He muttered in submission before ending the call.

A small guttural groan escaped his lips as he lowered his hand once more, turning his head to look at Peter, realizing the boy was now gazing up at him. Upon noticing the man's attention was back on him, the boy quickly averted his gaze, hesitantly lifting his eyes to focus on the collar of Tony's suit.

That was something else the billionaire had been quick to pick up on. Apart from the kid's stutter, the other obvious tick about him was that he never really made eye contact with anyone, especially not Tony. At most, he'd get a fleeting look, which quickly disappeared as soon as Tony noticed. Usually, the teen's gaze only ever reached up to stare at the collar of his shirt.

Once again, Tony didn't really know how he felt about that. . . .

"Is. . . is everything . . . o-okay?"

Tony was jolted from his thoughts as Peter spoke softly. The man regarded the boy for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "Actually, I have to go and talk to Pepper and Rhodey about something and-"

"Oh, right. I-I'm...I'm so sorry." Peter stuttered out, quickly rising up to his feet. "I didn't m-mean to take up y-your...your time, Mr. Stark and-"

"Whoa, kid!" Tony said quickly, cutting him off before he could pass out from the anxiety. Peter fiddled with his fingers and lowered his gaze back onto his shoes. "Ease up, would you? You're not keeping me from anything. It's just this one thing that's come up _right now_." He explained, a small jolt of satisfaction passing through him as he watched Peter's shoulders relax slightly.

"Oh. . . . o-okay..." The teen whispered out quietly. "Umm...I-I can...I can just wait...wait here for you while you g-go and...do what you have to."

Tony stared down at the boy in thought, his words leaving a sinking feeling in his stomach. He already knew the kid _would not_ be alright sitting by himself around the heavily-traversed area. The only reason he assumed the boy hadn't noticed the sheer amount of people constantly walking around them was because he'd been talking to Tony for most of the time.

The billionaire could still remember how the boy had looked when he'd first met up with him in the Tower. Peter had only been sitting in the lobby for around five minutes from what Happy told him, and he'd found him on the verge of a panic attack with how many strange people there were around him.

 _Well, he can't stay here..._ Tony muttered to himself as he glared around at the numerous people walking through the hall, either leaving the cafeteria or entering with colleagues. Loud voices and shrill laughter could be heard between them as they walked.

Apparently, Peter had begun to notice the others as well, for his arms were now tightly wrapped around himself and his right hand was raised a little higher to rub anxiously at his collarbone, another tick Tony had picked up on. Occasionally, the boy would steal nervous glances around himself, as if he were waiting to be jumped or something.

 _The last thing I need is for this kid to have a panic attack in the middle of a group of strangers._ Tony growled at himself. But then where could he _put_ the teen, exactly?! It wasn't like this tower had a daycare center or anything!

"Umm... M-Mr. Stark?"

Tony jolted as his name was called. Glancing back down, he met Peter's gaze for a second before the kid pulled away, eyes falling back to his collar. "Um, are...are you okay? You've k-kinda just been staring out i-into space for a while." He murmured unsurely.

"Yep. Fine. Just trying to find a good place to put you, kid."

". . . . . . . put me?" ( _He's trying to get rid of you)_

"Mm-hmm." Tony mused. "Can't exactly just leave you here with all the weirdos, now can I?" The billionaire explained as he began to lead the boy over to the elevator.

Peter's eyebrows furrowed as he glanced up at the man. "Y-you don't have to do t-that, Mr. Stark. I'll be f - hmmm..." The kid winced and let out a small whimper as a large group of workers walked particularly close to the pair, brushing up against his arm for a moment. Quickly regaining his composure, Peter flashed an embarrassed look to Tony before lowering his gaze back down. "I'll. . . I'll be fine." He whispered in a much softer tone.

 _(He thinks you're pathetic, too.)_

Tony couldn't help the sympathetic look that washed over his face for a fraction of a second before he quickly recomposed himself. "Yeah, I'm sure you would be." He decided to play along. "Just humor me, 'kay?" He asked with a small wink.

Peter gazed up at him for a moment before giving a small nod, ignoring the nagging _Beast_ in the back of his head. Tony gave one of his own as the elevator began to open up.

" _Tony. We need you here, now."_

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, Rhodey! But in case you didn't realize, I kind of have an influential minor on my hands, so if you could just give me a _frikkin_ minute here, that'd be very much appreciated!" He called back, tone giving away just how annoyed be was becoming.

Peter quickly stepped into the elevator, realizing things were most likely about to go south. Everything did, eventually.

" _Tony, we're not fucking around. Now get your ass over here before I come over there and drag you here myself!"_

As Rhodey continued to yell into his ear, Tony couldn't suppress his sigh as he began to rub his temple. "Hey, FRIDAY?" He called.

" _Yes, Boss?"_

"Go on and take junior here someplace private." He called, grimacing as he heard Rhodey continuing to yell at him. Something about . . . death threats and punches in the face or something or other like that. He wasn't really listening anymore. "Anywhere, FRI. I just... can't deal with this right now." He growled out as he turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt a migraine beginning to work its way forward.

" _Right away, Boss."_ The AI called.

"I'll come find you in a little while, kid. Alright?" He called, not even bothering to wait for an answer as the elevator doors shut once more. He let out a small sigh as he moved over towards the next elevator and stepped inside. "Pepper's office, FRI." He called as the elevator doors slid closed.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the metal bar that wrapped around the elevator walls as he ran through a list of everything he'd done in the past two weeks and just which one of those events he was about to be scolded for.

He hadn't done anything _too_ bad lately... _right?_

 **. . . . .**

Peter blinked curiously as the elevator doors opened up onto a new floor. He hadn't seen this place yet. _Have we not come to this part of the tour yet?_ Peter wondered to himself as he stepped out of the elevator.

Everything was dark, and yet, even with the lack of light, Peter could tell whatever room he'd just entered was big. _Really_ big.

"Umm...hello?" He called, heart racing at the idea of bumping into a stranger while he couldn't see them. It was bad enough dealing with people when they were actually in his line of sight!

" _Hello, Mr. Parker."_

Peter jumped at FRIDAY's voice filtering in through the ceiling, a nervous smile working its way onto his face. "Jeez...I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that." He murmured to himself.

"Uhh..." _How do you talk to a computer, again?_ "Excuse me...but it's...uhh...it's a l-little dark in here and..."

 _"Of course. Allow me to turn on the lights."_

Peter blinked as sharp lights quickly illuminated overtop his head, momentarily blinding him.

After taking a second to readjust, the teen lifted his head once more, only for his jaw to nearly hit the floor at the sight before him.

"Holy SHIT!"

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Offices**

 **04:31 p.m.**

Never in a million years would he admit it, but Tony's heart was beating considerably faster than usual. He was used to Pepper scolding him. He was used to Rhodey scolding him. He was even used to the two of them scolding him together. But there was just something about the sound of Pepper's voice through the earpiece.

It hadn't been the usual exasperation of him skipping an important meeting. It hadn't been the common annoyance of him blatantly ignoring something she'd _specifically_ told him to do. _No._ This time...it was _different;...ominous._

That alone had Tony's stomach churning in slight nervousness. But like he'd said...

...never in a million years would he ever admit that.

"Alright, I feel like I've just been dragged into the principal's office." The man mused with his typical Stark smirk as he entered the room, instantly taking note of the heavy air hanging around the three.

Pepper was currently sitting at her desk, elbows propped up, hands folded in front of her face, concealing any and all expressions from his line of sight. Rhodey stood up against the side of the desk, arms crossed over his chest as he simply stared down at the ground, face hard.

Tony ignored the feeling of dread that began to settle in his stomach at the looks of his two best friends as he took a seat at one of the chairs near the desk, resting a cheek on his fist. "So what'd I do? He asked. "Spray-paint a few lockers? Put some bugs in the teacher's desk? At least tell me it got in the yearbook.

Usually, the two would brush off the man's words and get right down to business, but this time Rhodes let a smile fall onto his face as a scoff flew out of his mouth, though something in Tony told him the man definitely wasn't laughing because he found it humorous.

Rhodey simply shook his head as his exasperated smile turned into a sigh. He raised his head and glanced over at Tony. "So...new intern, huh?"

Tony let out a soft groan. "We're still on this?" He muttered before letting out a small sigh. "Alright, Rhodey. Let's put this in simpler terms, shall we? Tony. Get. Intern. End of story, man" He mused, hoping the man would simply drop the matter and get onto what was really bothering him; at least, Tony could only hope it was something _else_ that was bothering him.

Rhode simply nodded his head, much too quickly for Tony's taste. "End of story? Oh no. I think there's _plenty_ of story here, huh Tony? Wouldn't you say?" He asked, his voice taking on a slightly darker tone as he leveled the man a hard stare.

Tony felt his skin beginning to crawl as the pit in his stomach slowly began to widen. "Not particularly" He muttered, his face remaining neutral.

"Really? So you don't want to explain _how_ you met this particular kid, Tones? Cause something tells me you wouldn't just pluck up some random teen off of the street. Or am I simply believe that you just went to the closest high school you could find and picked the first face you saw?" He growled.

Tony felt his teeth beginning to grind as he narrowed his eyes. "What's to explain, Rhodes? I met the kid through his application to the September Foundation. His file intrigued me. I went to see him. I liked what I saw so I offered him an internship. What more is there?" He growled out, his nervousness getting the better of him as his voice began to rise in volume.

Rhodey either didn't pick up on the shift in tone or - what Tony more likely assumed - he simply didn't care, for he let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, you liked what you saw all right. But it didn't end with an internship did it, Tony?" He growled out, eyes narrowing as he stalked forward. "That kid never applied for a scholarship, did he?"

"Didnt you hear what I just sai-"

DON'T **BULLSHIT** ME, TONY!" Rhodes snarled, eyes flaring in fury for a moment as Tony quickly jumped up to his feet. The colonel glared at the man in front of him for a moment longer before he shut his eyes, allowing a calming breath to sweep through him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Pepper, who has stayed silent throughout the ordeal, finally rose up from her chair. "Tony…" She called slowly, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she gazed back at the man. Tony turned a solemn gaze to face her as Rhodey took a step back, arms crossing back over his chest. "We just need to know one thing," She said slowly, eyes never leaving the man's face. Finally, the words Tony had been dreading ever since he entered the room finally drifted into the air.

"Is he Spider-Man?"

At any other time, Tony would have simply barked out a laugh and quickly denied the statement. But the looks that were laying stiff on the faces of his friends told him they already knew the answer to that question. Lying to them would do him no good now, not that his lies ever usually fooled them.

". . . . yes."

Pepper lowered her head and sat back down while Rhodey let out a sharp breath, slapping his arms down in frustration. "Jesus Christ, Tony." He growled out, though by the look on his face, it seemed like he wanted to say something much worse than that.

"I-I...I just…" The colonel seemed to be at a loss for words as he ran a hand over his face. After a moment, he finally turned to look at Tony. "What the hell is the matter with you?!" He snarled out, eyes sparkling in anger once more. "You know...I've stuck by you on some stupid things, Tony. Some stupid, crazy, irresponsible things, but I think this takes the frikkin cake!" He shouted.

"How can you allow him to be...to be going off doing _who-knows-what_ all by himself?" He asked. "No! Even better! How could you possibly think it was okay to drag a _goddamn_ _ **baby**_ to Germany to fight Captain frikkin America?!"

The colonel began to pace back and forth. "I mean, you said he was young, but...but I- I never thought you would stoop so low as to drag innocent children into things that shouldn't concern them!" He snarled out, whipping back around to face the man.

Tony's face remained stoic as he watched his friend pace. "It wasn't ideal-"

"Ideal?! It's fucking illegal!"

"What did you want me to do?!" Tony shouted, fists clenching at his sides as he glared back at him. "You know how bad things were. We had to do something right then and there. We were severely lacking in numbers and time. It was either we did something or Ross was going to kill them." He growled out, folding his arms over his chest as he glared down at the ground. "So I made a choice."

"Yeah, a really stupid one."

"What's done is done, Rhodes!" Tony barked. "We can't go back in time and change anything, so we might as well just move on."

"Move on?" The colonel repeated. "Oh no. You do not just get to walk away from this scott-free without any consequences, Tony!" He snarled. "I mean...did you even think of the consequences? Of...of what would have happened if that kid had gotten hurt? Or worse?"

"He didn't."

"But he could have!"

"But he **didn't**!" Tony snarled, the ferocity behind the words making Rhodey and Pepper gaze up at him in slight surprise. The billionaire stared back at the two for a moment before the fire burning in his chest began to dwindle.

He let out a tired sigh as he shut his eyes, slowly falling back down into his seat. He propped his elbow upon his knee as he rested his forehead on his hand. "And I didn't drag him into anything. . . . cause he was already in."

Rhodey and Pepper exchanged glances before the woman rose up from her seat, slowly walking over as she knelt down in front of the man. Tony's eyes blinked open before connecting with hers. "Tony...you need to tell us the whole story." She murmured softly.

Tony Stark had never been one to think about his actions before actually going through with them. Granted, the man had gotten better at gauging the consequences, his signing of the accords proving just that to her. But still...she knew there had to be something more behind this. Not even Tony would endanger a minor without good reason.

The man stared back at her for a moment before he let out another sigh. "Kid popped up on my radar a few months back." He started softly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "There had been some videos and a couple sightings of a new hero around the city, so obviously I wanted to know about it. Now . . . I don't know how this kid got his powers but.. . ."

He paused for a moment. "...they're...impressive." He let a small smile fall onto his face. "He can do some pretty incredible things with them. Not only that, but he's grade A smart, too. Made his own tech with nothing but garbage he found in the dumpster." He muttered with a small shake of his head.

"But...he was severely under-equipped." He uttered. "That's where I came in."

Rhodey regarded the man and his words for a moment before he let out a small sigh. "He was doing this before you even came into the picture?" He asked softly, Toy giving a small nod of his head. "I knew the kid wasn't just going to stop doing it...not after I heard why he was doing it in the first place. So…" He paused, shutting his eyes. "I upgraded his suit, and - despite my better judgment - I brought him to Germany to help us fight."

Rhodey's narrowed eyes stayed locked on the floor beneath them for a moment longer before he lifted his head, letting out a loud sigh. "Hate to admit it, but that kid really did help us out." He muttered.

Tony couldn't help but let out a scoff at that." Heh, yeah…"

The colonel paused. "Whoa, whoa, hold up." He started. "If there's one thing I remember about that Spider-Kid, it's that he never stopped talking." He moaned out before a small smile fell onto his face. "It was actually kind of. . ." He paused once more. "And...and that kid I just met...that kid out there...he was _nothing_ like that." Rhodey said , eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, heck! When I started talking to him, he looked like I just slapped him across the face. Like...like meeting my gaze would result in him bursting into flames or something." He mused.

Tony tensed up at that, something both Pepper and Rhodey instantly picked up on.

"Tony. . ." Pepper called suspiciously, warning the man to not even _try_ to hide anything from them.

The billionaire kept his gaze focused on the ground as he debated whether or not to actually tell them the whole truth. After all, this was a pretty touchy subject.

The man thought back to Peter. Judging from how the teen usually acted, Tony doubted he wanted anybody knowing about his home life. Though, he also hadn't wanted anybody to know he was Spider-Man and _welp_ …

But this… this was different.

On the scale of sensitive subjects, this was really frikkin high. Tony didn't feel comfortable just _thinking_ about it! Actually talking about it. . . .

That made it real.

Again, the man continued to try and persuade himself that he was overreacting. But the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach continued to try and prove him wrong. _God! I so don't need this right now!_ He snarled at himself.

"Hey"

His eyes jerked upwards at Rhodey's voice, the man currently leaning closer to place a hand on his shoulder. "You okay? You're kinda spacing out."

Tony continued to gaze up at the man before his eyes flickered over to Pepper, who was currently giving him the same worried look.

It wasn't his place to speak about this. After all, Peter's private life was just that. _Private._

And yet, Tony couldn't help but long to throw the words out, to open his mouth and just spew out what had been plaguing his mind throughout the night.

Rhodey cocked a brow. "Does this have anything to do with why you offered the kid an internship?" He asked. "Seems more your style to just monitor him from afar or something."

Tony rubbed his neck anxiously. If there were any people he could talk to about this, it was the pair currently standing in front of him. He could count on them to keep this between the three of them while simultaneously creating an outlet for Tony to vent his frustrations to.

And if the past few hours were any indication, Tony was willing to bet he would encounter many new frustrations when it came to Peter Parker.

And yet. . . . something held him back.

Something made the man pause and rethink what he was about to do. Before, he never would have hesitated to tell Rhodey and Pepper something. Of course, he'd usually disguise it with thick layers of sarcasm and snark, but they usually uncovered the truth fairly easily.

They were the people he trusted with everything.

Then Siberia happened.

He'd be lying if Tony said the experience hadn't shaken him. After all, they might not have started out as "close" friends, but after a few years of butting heads, Tony had finally begun to see a friend in...

Tony had trusted him.

And it had been thrown right back into his face.

He glanced back up to meet the gazes of his friends once again. His head growled at him to swallow his fear and just spew whatever it was he wanted to say, but the phantom pain in his chest made him pause.

. . .

. . .

 _No._

He trusted them.

He _had_ to trust them.

If he didn't. . . . then he really did have no one.

Tony let out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes, reaching into his pocket. Rhodey and Pepper watched as the man pulled out his phone, tapping a few buttons before a projection appeared in front of them.

On it was a picture of a man with short brown hair and a strong build, dark eyes standing out against the pale color of his face. Rhodey didn't recognize him, but from the way Pepper tensed, it was obvious she did.

"I met his father." Tony murmured.

Pepper's mouth fell open. "Richard Parker? That's his son?!" She gasped out.

"Richard Parker?!" Rhodey echoed, eyes widening. Anyone who worked at Stark Industries knew his name almost as well as they knew Norman Osborn's.

Pepper stared at the image for another moment before her gaze hardened, falling back onto Tony. "Do not tell me you're only keeping this boy around simply to keep tabs on his father." She whispered darkly.

Tony glared up at her. "Of course not, Pepper! God, I couldn't care less about _Parkstem_!" He snarled, the notion she was implying wounding him much more than he let on.

"I…" He hesitated, wondering just how to explain everything that had happened. Honestly, he didn't even quite understand it himself yet.

"The kid … Peter … he lives with his father and… and his 'associates', which is basically a who's who of human shit." He muttered, Pepper and Rhodey exchanging confused glances but remaining silent.

"Anyway...if you think the kid's nervous around here...you should see him at home." Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"That bad, huh?" Rhodey spoke, a new queasy feeling building up in his stomach.

Tony scoffed. "It's like a mouse in a den of vipers."

Pepper's face now held an aura of uncomfortableness as she held her gaze on the floor, swallowing thickly. "Did...did you see anything?" She whispered softly.

Tony glanced up at her for a moment before quickly deducing what she was implying, giving a shake of his head.. "Honestly, I don't know whether or not it's a good or a bad thing I didn't." He muttered, folding his arms. "No. All I saw was a kid who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but his actual home." He growled out, eyes narrowing defensively. "And trust me, I know exactly how that feels."

Silence enveloped the room at Tony's words, none knowing how true the statement was more than those three.

"I...I know how that feels…" Tony repeated softer this time. "And I might not know the kid that well. . . . but I know he doesn't deserve that." He whispered. "So...so I offered him an out...for a couple hours at least." He added, finally confessing what he hoped to accomplish with his offer. "Someplace he can . . . I don't know - be...himself, cause something tells me that doesn't happen too often at home." He scoffed.

Rhodey's gaze remained hard as his jaw tensed angrily. "Tony, do you think this kid is in trouble?" He asked hesitantly. Everything Rhodey had heard screamed danger loud and clear, but he knew things weren't clearly black and white. This kind of stuff was messy. "Is. . . is he being . . ." He didn't even want to say it.

Tony held his gaze for a moment before lowering his gaze, giving a small shake of his head. "...I don't know." He murmured softly. "But something tells me it isn't really the kind of family who has weekly game nights, if you know what I mean." He growled before shutting his eyes once more, resting his head on his hands.

"This is some serious stuff, Tony." Pepper said softly, letting out a deep breath.

The billionaire's shoulders jerked at his scoff. "Really? You know I hadn't really realized that."

The woman ignored his snark as she turned towards Rhodey. "What are our options here?" She asked softly.

The colonel sighed as he shook his head. "Without hard evidence...nothing." He huffed. "And something tells me that kid out there isn't going to be too willing to spill any of daddy's secrets."

Tony's eyes snapped open at those words. He quickly whipped his head up and stared back at the others. "We don't know that for sure." He whispered just loud enough for the others to here.

"What?" Pepper asked.

The man rose up from his seat. "What if I get the kid to tell me about stuff at home? Stuff that might actually convince people that something a little south of 'right' is going on?" He asked.

Rhodey took in the man's words for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "Considering it's unlikely you'd be able to gather any evidence without the kid's cooperation, I'd say it's your best bet." He explained. "But first, he has to actually accept your help. Without his cooperation, we can't really do anything."

Tony narrowed his eyes before walking over towards the door, Pepper and Rhodes watching him with concerned looks.

"We'll see about that."

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Private Lab 1**

 **04:45 p.m.**

Of all the things Peter had imagined he would end up doing that day, exploring Tony Stark's personal lab definitely wasn't one of them. Of course, the teen didn't exactly _know_ it was his personal lab...but whatever! It still counted!

For the first couple of minutes, the teen had only been able to stand there gaping as he tried to drink in every single thing he possibly could about the incredible lab.

The room was around the size of a tennis court, and that was only the bottom half. Farther into the room, Peter could make out a small stack of steps that led up to a slightly more elevated second floor.

Around him, numerous monitors and machines flashed and illuminated the already bright room in their own hues of light. Large metallic tables sat around the room, some holding small metal pieces and wires while others held parts that were as big as a car tire. Farther in the back sat another arc energy tube similar to the ones down in the other labs, only there were multiple and they were much more slender, snaking along the walls like circuit lines instead of standing centrally in the middle of the room. And it was the numerous Iron Man suit on the second floor had really made Peter drool like an idiot for the longest duration of his awe-fest.

It had taken a _lot_ of mental slapping, but Peter had finally been able to snap out of his stupor, which is what found him sitting on the small couch that sat propped up against one of the side walls on the first floor.

The teen's legs were folded underneath him - as usual - as he merely continued to look around the room with a small grin still plastered on his face. The gentle humming of computers and the whirring of distant machines met Peter's ear in a gentle concoction of bliss as he let out a contented sigh, shutting his eyes as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

Peter couldn't help but smile at the small sense of calm that began to wash over him.

 ** _VRMMM!_**

The teen yelped loudly at the startling noise, jerking his head up only to blink in surprise at the sight in front of him. A large robot with a long metallic arm-like crane was currently sitting in front of him. The claw connected to the arm slowly stretched forward towards Peter's face, the teen leaning back slightly as the machine seemed to _'take him in',_ or whatever the robot version of that was.

After taking a moment to realize the robot meant no harm, the teen couldn't help the small chuckle that bubbled out of his mouth. "Huh,...you're kind of cute." He uttered, pressing a hand against the cold metal of the robot. His eyes caught the large white letters printed onto the machine's side. "DUM-E, huh? Why do I feel like there's more behind that name than you're letting on?" He teased the machine, which simply let out another hum in response. He opened his claw and grabbed at Peter jacket, pulling the teen forward slightly before letting go.

The teen giggled. "What exactly are you anyway?"

" _That is DUM-E, Mr. Parker."_

Peter visibly jumped a few feet as FRIDAY spoke, his eyes darting nervously up towards the ceiling as she continued. _"Mr. Stark created said robot as well as others to function as assistants in and around the lab."_ She explained, DUM-E seeming to hum in confirmation.

The teen stared up at the ceiling for a moment longer before letting out a nervous chuckle. "Heh...umm thanks...FRIDAY."

 _"You are quite welcome, Mr. Parker."_

Peter wrinkled his nose. He hated that name. It reminded him of his father. ( _That's who you are)_

"Umm...can...c-can you just call me Peter?" He asked hesitantly.

" _Of course, Peter._ " The voice replies cheerily.

The teen let a loose smile fall onto his face at the AI's relaxing voice, the tone relieving some of the tension in his shoulders and the volume of the _Beast_. "So...you're Mr. Stark's AI?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

" _That is_ c _orrect. I run the main parts of the tower and also act as an assistant to Mr. Stark during missions in his suits."_ She responded.

Peter nodded. "Cool." He called before the room settled into silence once more. For some reason, the feeling made the teen feel a little awkward as he coughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "S-so . . . do you...like...being an AI?"

. . .

. . .

 _(What?)_

The teen's mental berating was cut off as the voice responded. _"I find it to be quite enjoyable."_

Peter coughed nervously once again. "R-right…" He breathed before letting out an annoyed groan. "God, Peter. You are so stupid." He muttered to himself, falling back down against the couch.

. . .

 _"I do not think you are stupid, Peter."_

The words caught him off guard as he blinked in surprise. The teen slowly sat back up as he glanced at the ceiling, replaying the words over. Had he heard that correctly?

After almost ten years of constantly hearing such words on a loop, Peter had basically fallen into a routine of berating himself the same way, repeating the words he heard at home in his head with the same tone as the _Beast_. He didn't think much of it. It was just habit nowadays.

So safe to say, the AI's words caught him extremely off guard.

. . .

Peter felt a small smile fall onto his face as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Heh. . . thanks, FRIDAY."

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - en route to Private Lab 1**

 **04:53 p.m.**

"HE'S **WHERE**?!"

Tony's eyes were practically bulging out of his head as FRIDAY repeated what she had just said moments ago.

" _As I said before, Peter is currently in your worksh-"_

"Yeah, yeah! I heard you the first frikkin time, FRIDAY. What I want to know is why the HECK he's in there!" He shouted as the elevator moved underneath his feet.

 _"You said to take him someplace private."_

"Yeah, I meant like an unoccupied room or something. Not my private lab!" He screamed.

 _"Perhaps you should have been more specific."_

"Alright, I do not need any attitude from you, m'kay?" He muttered. If it was possible, Tony was sure the AI would have been smirking at the moment.

The billionaire was baffled. FRIDAY knew better than to allow strangers and newcomers into his private lab. Those rights were restricted to himself, Pepper and Rhodey….well, nowadays at least.

 _Maybe she's malfunctioning_. He thought to himself, though something in the back of his head told him the AI was functioning perfectly fine.

The man let out a sigh as he felt the elevator slowing. "I swear, FRIDAY. If this kid's broken anything in there, I'm going to give you such a virus…" He voiced the threat, though he was sure the AI was practically rolling her nonexistent eyes at that.

The doors slid apart and Tony quickly stepped out, briskly walking down the short hall and into the open doorway of his lab.

Safe to say, he definitely didn't expect what he saw…

Peter was currently sitting criss-crossed on one of the many swivel chairs around the room, lazily spinning around slowly. Next to him stood DUM-E, who was currently humming loudly, something Tony found he only did whenever he was. . . . happy? At least that's what he assumed…

Everything else around the lab was in the exact style of messiness he'd last left it in, not a single crumpled piece of paper out of place.

But that wasn't even the strangest thing. No...it was Peter himself, or more specifically, what the kid was doing at the moment.

"You know, your vocal processors are really super advanced. Though I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. After all, you were made by Tony Stark. You know, I've always wanted to build something like you. Well...I guess not exactly like you. Probably more something along the lines of DUM-E, cause I mean, who wouldn't want their own little robot friend to hang out with? Of course, it's kind of hard to come by triple-wire electrical output sensors whenever you're digging through dumpsters. That's not usually the kind of thing people are messing with. Though a guess some people over at Oscorp probably use those kinds of things. Huh...you think Oscorp has any cool things in their dumpsters? I should really go and check those out sometimes. Maybe I'll even find some multi-repulsion circuits! That would be great."

He was...talking. A lot.

 _"Your projects sound very interesting, Peter. I'm sure they will turn out wonderfully."_

"Thanks, FRIDAY. But I can't even begin to name all the projects I've had to scrap. I just don't have the tools to make anything out of them." He sighed before perking slightly. "But I have been able to make a few. You know, when I was ten, I built a little flying drone that could drop my garbage in the trash can without me having to get up." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I could probably update him to better suit my needs nowadays though." He chuckled.

The kid was so engrossed in speaking to the AI that he hadn't even noticed Tony's presence. The man opened his mouth to alert the kid but decided against it at the last minute. Maybe he could learn something from this little opportunity of his…

Peter pushed the ground gently with the tip of his foot, the chair sliding against the floor until he was up next to the arc energy tubes along the wall.

"You know, this is super awesome!" Peter called up to the AI. "I've always wanted to learn more about Mr. Stark's arc reactor and the science behind it, but my father's not too keen on letting me learn up about that kind of stuff." The teen murmured with a small pout.

Tony cocked a brow. Something told him most teens weren't too interested in alternative methods of renewable energy. However, the teen before him looked all too excited to learn up on it.

 _"Well, what can you infer about the reactor, then?"_ FRIDAY asked, the billionaire resisting the urge to scoff and roll his eyes. _Guess I'm not the only one here that's a little curious about the kid._ The muttered to himself before craning to hear the teen's reply.

Peter furrowed his brow and scrunched his nose in a moment of thought before shrugging his shoulders. "Well from the little I have read on it, I know the original had a palladium core and that it's a sort of fusion reactor." He said before going back to slowly spinning in the chair, Tony quickly ducking back behind a large metallic suit piece set up on one of the tables as to not alert the kid of his presence.

"But the thing is, one of palladium's isotopes, Pd-107, produces silver when it undergoes beta decay." Peter pointed out. "That would then release an electron from when a neutron becomes a proton. But there shouldn't be an electrical current when the electron is released because the electron balances out the proton count between the palladium and silver." He announced as he continued to lazily spin. "So Mr. Stark would have had to come up with some kind of way to capture the electron that's released, which would generate that electrical current." He realized.

 _"And how do you believe he did that?"_

Peter stared up at the ceiling for another moment, ceasing in his spinning motions as he thought. After another minute, he proceeded to spin once again, only in the opposite direction this time.

"I guess he found a way to utilize the beta decay of Pd-107 ions as an electron source for the electron capture of Pd-103, which would produce an electric circuit between two different radioactive isotopes. After that, the electron capture process would cause an influx of gamma waves to be emitted towards the center of the reactor, while high-energy electrons are emitted from the center out towards the rim. Because the electron/proton counterflow creates a deficit of electrons in the core, a massive electrostatic potential is developed and the palladium core attracts lower-energy electrons from the suits wiring. The ejection of electrons from the core outwards produces an electrical cell capable of generating enormous voltage and current."

The teen paused, scrunching his nose. "Of course, that was before Mr. Stark took out his reactor..."

He began to spin once again.

"Anyway, that energy outflow could still be used, which is what he did." He murmured with a small tone of awe dripping through his words. "Basically, all you have to do is increase the size of the reactor itself and balance out the same ratio of electrons to protons to fit the new size and you're basically good to go." He explained.

"Then you can adapt that new energy to flow into the building's main generator, which can then be used to power up the rest of the building. Plus, assuming the tubing they used is able to reabsorb the excess electrical currents and shift them back down towards the core, that gets you a continuous renewable energy inflow going throughout the entire building." He finished, before pausing in his spinning once more. "At least, that's how I think he did it…"

 _Jesus Christ._ Tony breathed as the kid finished up and began to ramble on about whether or not FRIDAY thought pancakes were better than waffles.

Tony knew the kid was smart. After all, he'd been able to develop his own designs for functioning web shooters but.. _.this_? This was incredible. Here he was, nonchalantly figuring out mechanics and procedures that not even the top scientists and engineers had been able to figure out, and that was _with_ the actual _frikkin_ plans in front of them!

 _You're just full of surprises, aren't you?_ The billionaire breathed as he watched the kid laughed to himself as he spoke freely to the AI. From what the teen had just been able to figure out, Tony wondered why the teen hadn't skipped a few grades, or hell, why he wasn't in college already just on his scientific knowledge _alone_.

Although, the billionaire knew from experience that putting that much pressure on a fourteen-year-old isn't always the best answer. _Does his dad know about this?_ He wondered to himself, curious as to just how smart Richard assumed his kid was.

Finally, after watching the teen continue to chat to the AI while teasingly poking at DUM-E, Tony decided to make his presence known. Stepping out from behind his hiding spot, he strode over towards the teen. "Hey, kid."

Peter let out a yelp and jerked backward, the chair skidding out from underneath him as he floundered to the floor. tony blinked in shock as the teen quickly rushed up to his feet, nervous smile adorning his face as his cheeks blushed red, his hand rubbing at his neck. "Hehe...h-hey, Mr. Stark..." He mumbled out.

Tony resisted the urge to reply with a usual quip as he walked over. Peter lowered his gaze. "Umm . . . d-did...did everything go...o-okay?" He asked softly, Tony realizing with disappointment that the teen's stutter had returned.

He shrugged. "Yeah, nothing to worry about, kid." He replied, Peter nodding his head as he folded his arms over his chest and looked away. Tony rested against the side of the nearest table as he glanced down at the schematics laid out around it. "Got to say, I was a little surprised at you being here. FRIDAY isn't usually one to allow strangers into my _private_ lab, and neither am I for that matter, but-" He started, more chastising the AI than anything else, but his thoughts were cut off as Peter jumped up, eyes wide as he held his hands out.

"Oh, god! Oh, god! I-I'm so, so sorry, M-Mr. Stark! I-I...I didn't k-know this was y-your p-p-personal lab! I know t-that's no excuse but I-I s...I swear I didn't d-do this on purpose and-"

"Whoa! Slow your roll, kid!" Tony exclaimed, lifting his hands in surprise. The sudden movement made Peter shut his eyes and flinch away, a small, almost inaudible whimper escaping his throat as he ducked his head.

Alright... _that_ Tony noticed.

And he didn't like it _one bit._

Instead of pressing it, however, the billionaire simply stayed silent. He gazed down at the shivering teen currently refusing to meet his gaze, unsure as to how to really handle the situation. Reassuring panicking people wasn't really his strong suit. In fact, it was usually _him_ being reassured. But in a moment of sick realization, Tony slowly began to grasp the fact that he'd probably have to get used to this if Peter was going to be staying around. He had a feeling this would become a recurring thing.

 _Great._

Finally, after a moment of hesitation, Tony slowly lifted his hand and gently placed it on the teen's shoulder. Peter flinched once again as he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter than before.

"Peter…" Tony called softly when he didn't get the reaction he'd been hoping for. "Hey...you think you can open your eyes?" He murmured with a small smirk.

Peter let out a shaky breath as he slowly cracked open his eyes, his gaze remaining locked on the ground as his hands tightened around his arms with enough force to form deep bruises underneath his jacket that matched the ones already present.

"Alright...that's a start..." Tony joked, hoping to lighten the mood at least a little bit. Peter's gaze flitted around nervously from one tile to the next as he retracted his steely grip on one of his arms and raised it up to rub at his collarbone, something Tony was suspecting to be a nervous tick or something of a similar fashion.

"M'kay...you think can _maybe_ actually look at me, kid? I already have enough trouble focusing as it is without wondering whether you're even listening to me or not." He knew it probably sounded a bit harsh, but he needed this kid to really hear what he had to say.

Peter's lips parted slightly before closing once again. The teen shut his eyes tightly for a moment before exhaling softly. Slowly, the teen lifted his head, his eyes doing the same until they came to meet Tony's dark brown irises.

"That's better." The billionaire smirked as he took a small step forward. "Listen, Peter...I'm not mad, alright?" He said softly, the teen's large brown eyes seeming to stare right into him.

"Sure I was a little...surprised, maybe a bit angry at _FRIDAY_ … but I'm not mad at you, okay? In fact-" He paused, hesitating in his next choice of words.

Safe to say, Tony Stark liked his private lab exactly that: _private_. Sure, Pepper and Rhodey would _sometimes_ drop by, but even they'd quickly get shooed out if Tony was _"in-the-zone"_ as he liked to put it. In fact, the only person he'd ever really enjoyed sharing his lab with was Bruce, but even then, the man wasn't usually around nowadays so…

However, the usual uncomfortable, prickly feeling he got whenever he _imagined_ the idea of someone else touching things around his lab wasn't coming to him as he gazed down at Peter.

The boy was still staring up at him, eyes as large and...piercing as before. Those deep pools of warm hickory swirls seemed to seize the billionaire's chest as he stared back at him with a concoction of emotions Tony simply couldn't explain.

This kid was. . . _different._

He couldn't explain it. He. . . he just _was._

Tony had only known him for a little more than a week and he already found himself nearly pulling his hair out with stress. All things considered, the billionaire knew he probably shouldn't have been adding any other stress-factors to his already large pile-of-shit problems, but there was just something in the man that made him want to watch out for the kid, at least a little bit.

By this point, the man knew his original plan of setting the teen on his own probably wasn't going to fly over anymore. He couldn't forget about this kid. Not anymore.

The man continued to hold the teen's gaze, pausing a moment to simply take in the teen's face.

His skin was pale, save for a light red tint that washed over the tip of his nose and spread out over his cheeks. Loose soft curls twisted out from the top of his head, draping down over the tops of his large brown eyes.

Tony couldn't help but catch a small glimpse of himself in the teen's searching gaze; that longing look that tried to silently convey the need for praise and validation; that need for someone to simply give them the time of day.

He knew that look of silent desperation.

Tony would be lying if he said he hadn't been a little like Peter for a small part of his life. He remembered feeling shy and out of place, hesitant to speak or share his thoughts. Of course, Howard Stark was quick to drill into his head the standards of being a Stark. That meant self-doubt and hesitation weren't allowed.

But that didn't mean Tony still didn't feel them.

Perhaps that was the reason the billionaire was generous in the number of scholarships and grant money he offered to rising students and college applicants. Cause he knew what it was like to not be believed in, and he didn't want any other children to feel like they weren't good enough. If nobody else believed in them, then he'd do it himself.

However, that's usually as far as it went. Tony Stark might be a generous man, but he wasn't any saint. Taking shy, reserved geniuses under his wing wasn't really his thing.

Never had been.

However, it was one tiny detail on Peter's face that revealed all too clearly his reasons for taking the kid in.

All across his cheeks, his chin, his nose...there were dozens of small scars.

Most of them were much too small and faint to ever be noticeable unless you were staring _intently_ at the kid's face from a few feet away, but Tony saw them all too clearly.

He also saw the meaning behind them as well.

He took a deep breath. "In fact, you have my permission to come in here when you like, alright. You can work on your suit, do your homework, whatever." He finally spat out, eyes widening slightly as he recalled something. "Uh, _with_ my supervision, of course. I don't want you in here by yourself, kay?"

 _What?_ He was still a _teenager._ He didn't trust him _that_ much.

Peter stared up at the man, large eyes widening even more than before, if such a thing were even possible. His lips parted slightly n shock and for a moment, all he could do was stare back in surprise. But after a moment, the teen seemed to blink back into reality as he gave a slight shake of his head.

He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck as he lowered his gaze. "Y-you don't have to...do that..." He whispered softly. ( _He pities you.)_

Tony rolled his eyes as he tried not to make too big of a deal out of this, though even he knew it was kinda pointless. "You honestly telling me you'd be able to get any work done in the downstairs labs with all those people going in and out all the time?" He asked the teen with a knowing look.

In all honesty, the man dreaded the idea of the teen being surrounded by all of those stuck-up, pretentious snob scientists and engineers down in the other labs. After all, they _did_ work for Tony Stark. A little bit of snark _came_ with the job.

They'd eat the kid alive.

Peter seemed to be all too aware of this fact as he blushed furiously and wrapped his arms around himself, biting his lip as he kept his gaze locked on the ground once more. Tony took that as a sign of submission as he pushed off the table he had been leaning against, straightening out his suit as he turned back towards Peter. "Welp, might as well finish that tour, kid." He exclaimed with a smirk, gesturing his head towards the rest of the lab.

Peter blinked up at him for a moment before a shy smile made its way onto his face. "Heh...alright."

 **. . . . .**

"This is literally the _coolest_ place I have ever seen in my entire life..."

Tony couldn't hold back his snort as Peter's eyes practically dripped with starlight. The pair was currently on the second floor of the extensive lab, leaning up against the metal railing that separated it from the small three-foot drop down to the first floor.

The billionaire had been surprised. The tour of the lab had taken much longer than he'd expected, nearly surpassing an hour. Granted, he'd never had to give a tour of his lab before, it still surprised him how big it actually was. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd actually stopped to really take in his labs.

He guessed he sometimes took it all for granted. However, it'd only taken a few minutes of being around Peter and his awestruck gazes to make him realize that perhaps it was best to stop and take it all in sometimes.

Guess the fact sometimes slipped his mind considering how many times he'd been down here.

The fact did not, however, slip _Peter's_ mind. Throughout the duration of the tour, the teen's mouth had been hanging open, eyes in a constant state of shock as they explored. The first visual sweep he'd done on the place the moment he'd entered had _nothing_ on this! Peter's elbows currently rested on the top bar of the metal railing, arms resting on top of the cool steel as he gazed out over the rest of the lab.

Tony walked over and stopped beside the boy, taking in the view for a moment as a small smile slipped onto his face as well.

 ** _THUNK!_**

Both boys jumped at the loud noise. Whipping their heads down to peer over the railing, they both quickly noticed DUM-E, who was currently bumping up against the small wall underneath them as he backed up and rammed it again and again, no particular purpose in sight.

Tony let out an irritated sigh as Peter chuckling next to him. "I swear I'm selling him the next chance I get." He muttered while Peter continued to smile. "Aw come on. He's cute." The boy chuckled as he continued to gaze down at the struggling robot.

The billionaire quirked an eyebrow at the teen. Usually, most people who met and had the displeasure of working with the robot were quick to voice their annoyances, as well as their desires to scrap the robot for parts. Tony, of course, would never allow it. Despite his scathing comments about the robot, he still considered it a close friend.

Everyone knew he'd never get rid of it.

Still, that only made the fact that Peter enjoyed DUM-E's company all the more surprising, though Tony probably shouldn't have been. He'd only known Peter for a short time and most of those meets had been private, but the billionaire had a feeling the kid wasn't one to be nasty.

Tony glanced down at DUM-E before gazing at Peter once again. He'd noticed the kid's speech had drastically improved as time had passed. Time to test it out even further.

"You know, I overheard you talking with FRIDAY on arc reactors." He began. "You interested in them?"

The teen's eyes lit up as he spun around, curls tossing around his forehead as they tickled his skin. "Yeah!" He breathed out. "It's only _the_ most successful example of renewable energy out there _today._ " He exclaimed with a smile. "I know a little bit about the math behind it, but I've always wanted to know more." He murmured wistfully.

Tony couldn't suppress a scoff. "A little? Kid, you know more than most of the smartest engineers out there!" He exclaimed, Peter blushing as he ducked his head slightly. "No, I don't. I just...you know...I...I just thought it was mostly common knowledge...you know? I mean. . . ." He trailed off before giving Tony a shy, almost searching look.

". . .really?"

Tony blinked at the hopeful tone in the teen's voice before giving the kid a smile. "Definitely, Pete. But there's still a bit I could teach you if you'd like." He teased, throwing the teen a knowing look.

As expected, Peter's eyes lit the room as he beamed. "Seriously?" He gasped out. "That's...I mean...I-I don't...and-" His tongue literally seemed to tie itself into a knot as he tried to speak. Tony, thankfully, cut him off before he could pass out. "Easy, kid." He teased. "Of course I will. Not every day I meet someone who's as interested as you in this type of stuff. Plus you're not a total pain to talk to so I might actually look forward to it." He joked, lightly elbowing the teen.

Peter only gave a small flinch at the touch, smile remaining on his face as he gave a small laugh. Turning his gaze back towards the extensive lab, the teen chuckled softly. "But seriously, Mr. Stark..." He breathed out. "I'm pretty sure I've had dreams about this place." He joked. "Like...my father's lab doesn't hold a _candle_ to this." He awed.

Tony's smile fell as Richard came to his mind. The man was instantly reminded of his true intentions in coming down to find Peter. _Damn it, Stark. How'd you get so far off track?_ He berated himself as his face fell into a small grimace.

His mind replayed the last few bits of his conversation with Pepper and Rhodey; what he hoped to achieve in speaking to Peter.

He needed this kid to confess.

It was hard to ignore what was now practically screaming in his face. Pepper and Rhodey's validations only strengthened his resolve. This boy definitely needed some help. Unfortunately, Tony would have to do.

While the man held onto a small glimmer of hope, something in him told him the approaching conversation wouldn't likely be a _good_ one. _Maybe...just maybe this kid will actually give me something to work with..._ He hoped to himself, knowing that Peter was the key in this mess. He could only pray the kid would open up just a little.

A tiny crack was all he needed.

"Umm...Pete?"

The teen turned back towards him, his smile disappearing as he took in the sight of Tony's troubled face. "Y-yeah...?"

Tony struggled to suppress his groan of turmoil as he quickly took in the shift in moods. But he knew this needed to be done. He had to know just how much this teen actually trusted him. The man stared down at the teen for a moment longer before letting out a sigh of acceptance. _Time to get this over with, Tony._

"I know I asked this before, but I've come to notice I never really got a straight answer..." He began slowly, watching Peter's face for any signs at all. "So I'll ask again . . . . is everything alright. . . at home?"

Peter quickly tensed as his fingers twitched, unease quickly becoming apparent in his body language. His face, however, was a completely different story. The teen let a smile fall onto his face once again as he let out a chuckle. "Yeah...yeah, everything's fine, Mr. Stark." He said with a grin. "I mean, it can get a little crowded at times, but it's mostly fine."

His voice was so steady, so calm, so... _unlike_ Peter that Tony was almost convinced right then and there that maybe he had jumped to conclusions; maybe he'd been wrong. The words were spoken with such an air of confidence, such a tone of amusement that Tony really _could_ believe that Peter found it funny. He could believe that Richard was a modern-day businessman with a successful company that took up most of his time. He could believe that Peter needed some people at home to make up for the absence of his father. He could believe that Peter was simply a shy, soft-spoken boy; a shy, _clumsy_ , soft-spoken boy.

He maybe even _would_ have believed it. . . . . if not for the way Peter's hands had curled into tight, shaking fists almost completely hidden behind his leg.

He _could_ have believed it. But unlike everyone else who had ever met and noticed Peter's strange behavior, he didn't _want_ to believe it.

Tony's gaze hardened. "Don't lie to me, Peter. I want a straight answer." He said in a firmer tone. "I need to know if everything is alright." He explained as he stared down at the teen.

Peter's smile was now faltering. This isn't how it's supposed to go. ( _He knows.)_

He blinked up at Tony in surprise.

They're supposed to drop it now. Drop it and forget. ( _He knows. He knows. He knows.)_

He swallowed, noting how dry his throat had become.

That's what they all do. ( _You're dead.)_

"I...I umm..." He stuttered out, hands fisting the denim of his jeans. "W...w-why...why wouldn't I-I...be?" _(They're gonna kill you.)_

Tony took in the sight of the teen, noticing how his hands were beginning to tremble even more violently than before. He suppressed the urge to sigh. He had hoped it would go a little better than this. However, he knew he couldn't just drop it now. He had to push.

"Stop toying with me, Peter." The man said calmly, reminding himself to keep his voice level and peaceful, He didn't need this kid having a panic attack in his lab. "I need to know the truth. I need to know if you're alright." He continued as he took a step forward, noting how Peter, in response, stumbled backwards. "I...I-I...I'm fine."

"I don't think you are." _(He's gonna go to the police.)_

"Well, I am! I...I-I..." Peter could feel himself choking on the words as he always did whenever he got flustered. As usual, it only aggravated him even more, which made the stutter worse.

"Peter..." Tony called, taking another step forward. "I need you to trust me, kid. If you're in trouble, I can help you. I can protect you. But I can only do that if you tell me what's going on." ( _They'll punish you.)_

"N-nothing's g-g-going...on. I..I-I..." He struggled to take in another breath. The man moved closer as Peter's hands wrapped around his arms, fingers gripping the limbs so tightly that Tony was sure it would bruise almost immediately. "Kid...are you afraid of that house?"

"N...n-no...no I-I...I'm..." He couldn't breathe.

"Peter . . . . . . are they hurting you?" ( _RUN!)_

" **NO! SHUT UP!** " The teen roared, head shooting up as he screamed at the man, who staggered backwards in shock at the teen's sudden explosion. " **No!** No, they're not! They're not doing anything to me! **He's** not doing anything to me! He **loves** me! He would **never** do anything to me. I'm fine! Everything's fine! They're not...He's not...I-I...I'm fine! **I'm FINE!"** He screamed, fists shaking at his sides as he glared back at the frozen man.

"They would never touch me! **He** would never touch me! He loves me! He **loves** me! He only ever wants what's best for me! He knows best! I know he does! I...I-I...I love him and...and he loves me, alright?! He **LOVES** me!"

Tony could only stare back in shock. He knew the teen might respond poorly, but he never thought he'd get so...angry. But at the moment, Peter looked like he wanted to throw something...particularly, something _heavy_. It was unnerving, seeing such a foreign emotion as rage in Peter's eyes. In fact, if Tony didn't know any better, he'd say that rage almost resembled...tears.

After a moment of harsh, ragged breathing, Peter wrapped his arms around himself and pressed his back against the cold metal railing, slowly lowering himself down to the ground. "He'd...h-he'd never... _hurt_ me." He whispered out pathetically as he brought his knees up to his chest, roughly wiping away the moisture from his eyes.

Tony stared down at the shivering teen currently fighting back tears, swallowing the lump that had built up in the back of his throat. He opened his mouth to say something but found he _had_ nothing to say. What _could_ you say after that? _Sorry for assuming your dad's basically the human equivalent to horse shit, but you've basically just confirmed my suspicions, kid._

Something told him that wouldn't really fly over too well.

For a brief moment, Tony contemplated what his father would have said.

 _Get your ass off of that floor right now. Stark men don't cry, got it?! Whatever crap you_ think _you're feeling right now is just you being a weakling, and that's not what I raised you to be! Now clean yourself up and get your act together, got it?_

Tony watched Peter shut his eyes tightly as small tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. His hands clenched into fists. Peter didn't need that. _He_ hadn't needed that. It was just the shitty hand he was dealt.

In that moment, Tony came to realize a few important things.

There was no denying what was right in front of his face. Not now. Not anymore. Peter's denials had, ironically, been is exactly what he needed to confirm it.

There was obviously something going on in that house that had Peter afraid; that had him delving into panics whenever someone even got remotely close to figuring it out.

Whatever it was, Tony knew it wasn't something simple words were going to fix. He couldn't just throw money at this either. This was a real, actual problem. And this kid right in front of him was at the root of it all.

Tony let out a sigh and rubbed at the back of his neck. Nothing he could say would make this all better. Nothing he could quip or snark about would make this kid feel better...so he'd have to try something else.

Peter's body visibly tensed as Tony stooped down and took a seat next to him, not saying a word.

Sometimes you didn't need someone spewing lies about how everything was going to be okay and that it'd all work itself out if they just kept waiting long enough. Sometimes you didn't need words of encouragement that went in one ear and flew out the other. Sometimes you didn't need lectures or shouts or disapproving looks.

Sometimes all you needed was someone to sit with.

. . .

. . .

"I'm not mad, you know…"

. . .

"Though it is nice to know you can actually use that voice of yours when ya want to."

. . .

"I was out of line there, kid. You were totally in the right…And if you say nothing's going on….then I believe you."

. . .

. . .

. . .

"Peter…"

. . .

"Kid...look at me."

Tony was only mildly surprised when Peter's head gave a small shake, eyes remaining hidden as he pressed his forehead against the denim of his jeans. The billionaire felt his chest constrict at the dejected, broken sight of the teen's shivering form. "I'm not mad." He called gently, voice soft and calm as if talking to a rabid animal.

Peter instantly tensed but didn't bark at him, so Tony assumed it was alright. "It's alright, Peter. I _promise_ it is." He didn't notice how the teen's muscles coiled at the word, continuing nonetheless. "Just...look at me."

Tony watched as the teen's fingers curled tighter around his legs and for a moment, he thought he would continue to be ignored. But after some time, he watched as Peter slowly lifted up his head, eyes remaining locked on his knees as he shakily straightened up. His chest shook slightly as the teen slowly tore his gaze away from the floor and dragged it over towards Tony, hesitantly bringing them upwards before finally settling on the man's dark gaze.

Reminding himself to smile and remain calm, the man gave a small grin. "See? Told you we're good."

Peter's expression, however, remained pained and nervous as his chest continued to raggedly heave with every breath. _Alright, Tony...you need to get his mind off this shit and fast before you have an_ actual _panic attack on your hands._

The man hesitated for a moment before he scooted backward on the floor until his back was resting up against the metal railings right alongside Peter. The teen's gaze had now fallen back down to the floor as he rested his chin on the top of his knees. Well...at least he wasn't panicking anymore...that's _good..._

"Everyone always asks why I keep him."

Peter blinked in surprise and lifted his head to look at Tony. "Umm...what?" He asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Tony gestured with his head down over at DUM-E. The robot was currently working on picking up a coffee mug that had last been left on one of the tables. He was quick to run into the corner of the table and knock the mug down, running over the shattered pieces of it as well...just for good measure.

Peter glanced over at the robot before turning back to Tony. "With all the accidents he causes, all the miscalculations he makes and just the sheer annoyance of him alone makes him a worthy candidate for the trash-heap or the local college." He muttered, waving his hand dismissively int he air. "At this point, most people just consider him a waste of space."

Peter lowered his head once more, arms wrapping tighter around his legs. "Why don't you then?" He muttered out almost bitterly.

"Cause that's not how I see him."

. . .

Peter lifted his head once more.

Tony continued. "I made DUM-E when I was just a kid. Back then, he was considered a marvel, especially considering I'd been so young when he'd first been built. He helped me work down in my father's labs and became almost like...a friend. " He murmured out.

"As time went on, technology advanced and machines became bigger, faster, smarter... DUM-E couldn't really keep up anymore, you know? Nowadays, people are always bugging me to get rid of him. To just toss him out or upgrade his circuitry and wiring. But...I already know I'll never do that."

Peter silently stared at the man as he spoke, releasing his hold on his knees ever so slightly.

"DUM-E was always there for me when I needed him, so who am I to not do the same for him? I mean, just because everyone else sees him as...a nuisance, or a waste of space, or just a lost cause...doesn't mean I have to see him like that as well." He smiled down at the teen by his shoulder. "I'm never going to give up on him."

Peter took in the man's words carefully, chest twinging strangely at them for reasons he did not know. After a moment, the teen let a soft smile form on his face. "I like DUM-E." He murmured out.

Tony smiled beside him. "Yeah...I think he likes you too." He answered. "He hasn't run over your foot yet, so that's usually a good sign." He muttered, smile increasing as he heard Peter giggle beside him.

The teen smiled as his gaze moved over the lab for a moment, stopping as he caught sight of the numerous suits lining the far back wall. Tony noticed his pause and followed his gaze, taking notice of the suits as well. the thoughtful look forming on Peter's face told him the teen was curious about something.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Hmm?"

". . . . Why did you become Iron Man?"

Tony paused at that. _Why did you become Iron Man?_ He'd heard the question uttered to him nearly a million times. Every press conference. Every meet and greet. There always seemed to be somebody who wanted to know why he did it. This shouldn't have been any different.

However, there was something that made him pause. Something in Peter's voice, something that wasn't present in the voices of everyone else who had ever asked the question. This wasn't the voice of some sleazy reporter who wanted to see who could get the biggest scoop on Tony Stark. This wasn't the voice of some obsessed groupie who simply wanted to claim they knew more about their idol than anybody else.

No...this was the voice of someone genuinely curious; someone who was actually slightly afraid of the answer they'd receive.

This was the voice of someone who wanted confirmation on whether or not being a hero was actually _worth_ it.

Tony paused for a moment before lifting up his hand and pulling his tie off of his neck, tossing it down towards the floor. "You know I was a weapons manufacturer before all of this, right? Before Stark Industries got into renewable energy?"

Peter nodded his head as Tony had assumed he would. "Well, when I got back from Afghanistan after being in captivity for three months - you know about that too, right? Good, anyway, when I got back, I discovered that my weapons were being dealt under the table to war activists and third-world terror parties. It was then that I realized I could do so much more than just create weapons of destruction. I...I could help people...in ways my weapons never could. I...I could become something more than just another billionaire making money off of the suffering of others."

He passed before turning towards Peter. "I had the power to do something more - help people. So I guess the better question is: Why _wouldn't_ I become Iron Man?"

Peter stared at the man for a moment longer before turning his gaze back down to the ground, nose scrunching slightly in thought. After a moment, the teen couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of his mouth, Tony turning to look at him at this.

"You know...everyone always says that you're just a stuck-up, arrogant prick who doesn't really care about anything else other than money and business-"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, kid."

"-but I knew you were my favorite Avenger for a reason."

Tony froze before glancing over at Peter, who was smiling warmly at him. His fingers weren't twitching anymore. His body wasn't shivering.

His eyes were staring right back at him.

"You're not what everyone says you are. And...and I know I haven't known you for very long so I really have no right to be saying stuff like this, but...you're way better than what I was expecting, too. And I guess that's saying something…" His eyes seemed to shine even brighter than before. "...cause you were already pretty great to me."

Tony simply stared back at the teen, simply at a loss for words for around the fifth time that day, something the teen seemed notorious for.

He'd heard people say things like that to him all the time, telling him what a wonderful and generous person he actually was when people would bother to get to know him...but just the way Peter's face had lit up, just the way his eyes seemed to literally sparkle in awe...it made a small smile form on his face.

Before either of them could say anything else, a small knock over by the door alerted them to another presence. Turning around, they noticed Happy standing in the doorway. "Hey...if you don't want the kid to be late, I suggest we leave now." He called in.

Tony glanced down at his watch and grimaced at how late it actually was. _Damn...when did that happen?_ "Uh...right." He said before turning quickly rising to his feet, reaching down to help Peter up.

The teen's face had dimmed considerably, his face twisting into a look of slight pain as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He jumped slightly at the hand on his shoulder before giving Tony a small look.

"Hey…" The man called gently, the tone surprising Happy at the door. "I'll see you Wednesday, alright?"

The words seemed to make Peter happier as he perked up slightly, a small smile forming on his face. He gave a small nod of his head and ducked down slightly as Tony ruffled his hair, small laugh trickling out of his lips as he pulled away.

Making his way over to Happy, who was currently giving Tony a hard stare as he checked for any wires or circuits to indicate his replacement robot-clone status as Peter turned back, giving him a small wave before the pair disappeared out the door.

 **. . . . .**

Tony watched through the window with a look of unease as the car pulled away from the building and drive out onto the street. His gaze followed the car for as long as possible before it disappeared, a small sigh fluttering from his lips as he shut his eyes.

"I'm taking it things didn't go too well…"

The billionaire let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah…let's just say things went a little south of _'well'_ ". He muttered out before turning around, meeting the concerned gazes of Pepper and Rhodey. "Is this going to be our new unofficial-official club hideout or something?" He smirked, gazing around Pepper's office. "Should we get matching capes?"

Rhodey rolled his eyes but held back a biting retort. He knew the man was upset, hence the excess sarcasm. Thankfully, he was fluent in the language of Tony.

"What happened?" Pepper asked softly as Tony took a seat.

The man stayed silent for a moment before clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "In hindsight, I probably should have expected him to resist what I was saying, but I didn't really think he'd freak out like he did and-"

"Whoa, whoa! He freaked out?" Rhodey repeated, a new sense of unease returning to his stomach. That was _not_ a good sign.

"Yep. I've literally never seen him get so mad before. . . . granted, I've never really seen him do anything before." He muttered before letting out a growl. "That's the problem, right there!"

"What?" Pepper asked, furrowing his brow.

"We don't know anything about this kid. _I_ don't know anything about this kid. I mean...of course he wasn't going to tell me anything! Why would he ever trust me? He doesn't even _know_ me!" He shouted out angrily.

His eyes softened slightly as he came to remember something. "H...He doesn't trust me...but for some reason...he...h-he...looks up to me." He murmured out softly, remembering the look on Peter's face, the light in his eyes when they'd spoken.

Tony let out a sigh and rested an elbow on his knee, propping his chin up with his fist. Rhodey rubbed at his eyes before turning back towards the others. "Look...the only way we can help this kid is if we get his cooperation. We need him to tell us straightforward that he's being hurt, otherwise, we got nothing." He took a breath. "Maybe you can try again. Or...maybe one of us can try and-"

Tony shook his head, remembering the desperation hidden behind the anger in Peter's eyes during their argument. "He's not gonna spill, Rhodes. You didn't see him. He wasn't just being stubborn. He...he wasn't just being abrasive. He...he was...terrified." He whispered out.

Pepper stepped forward. "Well..is there any way we can gather some evidence ourselves and-"

"No." Tony growled out. "Anything we find out, Peter is sure to just deny. And if we do get the police involved and it turns out they can't do anything…" He paused. "I don't know what they'd do to the kid." He murmured out darkly.

Pepper and Rhodey exchanged nervous glances.

"No. Peter is the key to all of this. The only way we can do this is if the kid helps us do it." He explained.

Rhodey narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, but how? You said it yourself this kid isn't going to spill. So what's going to change his mind?"

Tony shook his head and shut his eyes, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. His mind wandered back over his conversation with Peter, right after their fight. He'd somehow managed to calm the boy down, even got him to open up just a little bit. He seemed to be able to do that talking quietly and even exchanging a few jokes. Yeah, but that isn't enough… He growled to himself. He needed the teen to explain everything.

He needed something bigger.

His eyes shot open as he instantly straightened up in the chair, Pepper and Rhodey jumping slightly at the rushed movement. "Me." He whispered out, a small smile falling onto his face.

"What?" Rhodey asked, only to jump once again as Tony rushed up to his feet, racing forward with wide eyes. "Don't you get it?! Earlier today, that kid would barely even utter a single word, but right before he left, his stutter was gone, he wasn't shaking and he was looking me right in the eyes!" He shouted with a huge grin.

"Okay, so…" Pepper urged him to continue.

"So...if I can get him to relax that much after only a few hours with him, imagine what it'll be like after a few months!"

"A few mont-" Rhodey echoed, only for Tony to cut him off.

"I get it. He isn't going to talk now. He doesn't know who he can and can't trust, not to mention he can't really afford to make a mistake regarding that." He muttered to himself as he began to pace back and forth. "But if I can convince him that he can trust me; if I can convince him that I can protect him, that I can help him…" He paused and looked back up at the others.

"I need to get him to trust me."

Pepper stepped forward. "Tony, do you know how long that might take? Trust is not something that's built up easily. And if this kid is being put through everything you think, it'll be even harder to earn his trust." She explained.

Rhodey leveled him a hard stare. "This isn't going to be easy, Tony. And this definitely isn't something you can bail on after you find it's harder than you thought. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Tony paused for a moment before turning to stare back at the pair. A simple silent nod said more than any words could.

Rhodey nodded as well. "Alright, new plan: get the kid to trust you…." He paused. "And just how do you plan on doing that?"

The billionaire stared at them for a moment before turning away, glancing back over towards the window. "I don't know." He finally said. "We'll just have to take this one step at a time."

Tony stared down at the city below them, eyes trailing over the area where he knew Queens was located. Now that the sun had gone down, it was obvious where the rundown low-level area was, considering how dark it was compared to the other numerous lights surrounding it.

 _I will get you to trust me, Peter._ Tony thought to himself, a new sense of determination building in his chest.

 _I promise._

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Parker Residence -** **Driveway**

 **07:21 p.m.**

"See ya, kid."

Peter gave a meek wave at Happy's goodbye as the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the road, leaving him alone once again. The teen gripped the strap of his backpack tightly as he took a deep breath and turned around, taking in the dreaded sight of his house.

Now that it was nighttime, the building seemed to loom even more ominously, waiting to swallow up another victim in its open maw, dragging them in before consuming them completely, never to spit them back out again.

Ignoring the usual shudders that racked his small frame whenever he'd approach his house, Peter let out a sigh and began to trek over, only to pause as he heard the sound of an opening door. To his relief, the sound didn't come from his own house, but the one across the street.

While the houses on his street were all high-end and expensive, the houses on the neighboring streets and the surrounding neighborhoods were anything but. Usually, they were nothing more than small apartments and rundown tenements.

Peter would usually pay no mind to the neighbors, who were all-too-happy to turn a blind eye whenever the situation called for it.

However, there was one exception.

"Peter!"

The teen felt a grin split his face as an older woman in her early to mid thirties began the descent down her apartment stairs, grasping a large garbage bag in her hand. She had dark brown hair that stretched down to her shoulders and a warm smile.

Peter walked over with a smile. "Hello, May." He called gently.

May Brenner had been living across the street from him for as long as he could remember. The woman had always been a warm, kindly soul, always ready to give a smile or hug.

The woman tossed the trash into the bin and walked over, wrapping her arms around the teen - as she always did. Peter tensed slightly at the touch merely out of reflex, but May was used to the reaction.

"How are you, sweetie?" She asked kindly, to which Peter shrugged. "I'm alright. How about you? You doing okay?"

May took a moment to take a deep breath, face going thoughtful for a moment before she gave a small nod. "Can't really complain."

Peter gave a small smile at that, but didn't press it. They both were avoiding it. Neither of them really wanted to talk about it anyways. Peter didn't even like _thinking_ about _him_ nowadays. It was just easier to avoid thinking about why May now lived by herself.

"That's good." The teen said gently, to which May gave a nod of her own. "Speaking of good, whose car was that you just stepped out of? I've never seen that one around here before." She asked with tilt of her head.

Peter let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, that was one of Tony Stark's private cars. I'm interning over at Stark Industries now."

May's eyes widened and a smile split her face. "That's wonderful, Pete!" She beamed, dragging the kid into another hug, to which Peter let out a nervous chuckle.

Pulling away, the woman placed her hands on the teen's shoulders. "Stark Industries? Wow, that's a big deal, Peter. Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You always were a smart one." She chuckled, gently elbowing the teen.

Peter felt a light blush fade onto his cheeks. "I...I mean I guess…" He whispered

"Oh, don't be so modest." She smiled, the look falling after a moment of consideration. "Though I am surprised at your choice of Stark Industries. After all, I would assume Parkstem Labs would be a more... _mandatory_ choice for you." She muttered darkly, glaring across the street at his house.

May always had been very observant.

Peter's face grew uneasy as he gave a small shrug. "Yeah...I thought so too. Guess my father had other plans…" He murmured quietly. "I...I should really get home."

May gave the boy a sympathetic look and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Alright, Pete...Promise you'll be careful, right?" She said softly.

Peter said nothing as he pulled away. "Bye, May." He whispered.

The woman watched him go sadly before turning back up her stairs, giving the teen one last parting look before heading back inside.

Peter slowly trudged up the stairs to his own house, slowly pulling his keys out from his pockets, the jingling sound grating painfully through his ears as his hand shook.

Trembling fingers fought to push the key into the lock before they finally hit home, sliding into place before the sound of clicking locks snapped in his head. The harsh sounds made him wince as he grasped the handle and slowly pushed the door open.

He was met with total darkness, the sight making him furrow his brow in confusion. They are home...aren't they? He wondered to himself as he slowly stepped inside. His muscles coiled in tension as he tried to make out any movement in the darkness, but found he couldn't see anything.

Unease began to fill his gut as he slowly began to feel his way along the wall, hoping to gasp onto the light switch. As he searched, a loud scraping met his ears, making him freeze in place. "Hello?" He called out, whipping his head behind him as he struggled to find the light.

His question was met with a series of small bumps and bangs sounding out around him. "Flint?" He called hesitantly. "C-Curt? Sandra?"

Silence met his questioning voice once again. "Come on, you guys! I'm really tired." He said, thought he knew such a fact wouldn't matter to them.

As another bout of silence met his ears, Peter narrowed his eyes. Maybe this was just the opportunity he needed. Gripping the strap on his backpack even tighter, the teen ducked his head and quickly began to make his way over towards the elevator, carefully trying to remember the placement of the furniture as to not trip.

Suddenly, he felt a mountain of water come crashing down over his head as something metallic and hard slammed into his temple. A shout of pain fell from his lips as he slipped on the wet floor, crashing down to the ground, landing painfully on his wrist.

Before he could even begin to try and understand what had just happened, loud laughter filled his ears as the lights came flooding on. He winced at the harsh change in lighting before blinking open his eyes.

The Cons were currently standing around him, save for Max, faces adorning scornful looks as they laughed. He was now drenched from head to toe in water, the liquid spreading out around the wooden floor. Next to him, a metal bucket sat at his feet.

"Welcome home, Pete!" Sandra beamed, harshly patting the teen on the head. Peter winced as she slammed her palm into his now-throbbing temple, which now had a small trickle of blood trailing down. The teen hissed in pain as he felt more water trickle into the cut. Gazing down at the puddle underneath him, the teen realized there were little flecks of soap in it.

"What the-"

"You know, now that you have that stupid internship, we have to clean up around here!" Flint growled out, kicking the bucket with his foot. The metal container slammed into Peter's side, the teen grunting at the blow, but otherwise remaining silent.

"Yeah, we also had to scrounge up dinner money to order some food." Curt muttered, flicking his lighter open and closed, the light flicking sound making Peter uncomfortable, something he was all too aware of.

"I...I'm s-sorry…"

"Yeah? You better be fucking sorry!" Sandra growled. "You get this fancy internship while we're the ones who have to pay for it!" She muttered out. _Jesus, so sorry you actually had to do some work around here._ Peter thought to himself before instantly dismissing of it. _Where the heck did that come from?_

"I don't like this stupid internship." Flint snarled. "Why the hell does he need one anyway? It's not like he's smart enough to actually get into college or something." He scoffed, the others chuckling at that.

Peter's cheeks burned as his fingers curled. Ten years and they still didn't know…

Shaking the thought from his head, Peter slowly began to crawl to his feet. "I have homework to do." He lied monotonously as he rose up to his feet. The teen tried to make his way over to the elevator without being seen, only for Curt to grab his sore arm and yank him back, Peter yelping in pain.

"I don't think so, Petey!" He called before narrowing his eyes, tossing the ten back into the soapy, watery mess at their feet. "Thanks to the bad mood your little escapades put us all in, I'd say you owe us something."

Peter stared down at the ground, fists trembling as his hair fell down around his eyes. "So...since we're all so tense and antsy at the moment, we thought another round in the training room might do us all some good."

 _Eyes shut, mouth closed, eyes shut, mouth closed, eyes shut, mouth closed..._

"What do you say, Petey? Wanna help us blow a little steam?" Curt grinned down as the others began to surround him, stretching out their hands to grab his arms and drag him away, only for a lone voice to cut through the chatter.

"Enough." Max called with a huff as he entered the room. As usual, his button-down shirt was barely even buttoned at all, save for the few at the bottom, revealing a black toned chest underneath. The man was currently holding a glass of scotch, which made Peter guess the man had been talking with his father...wherever he was.

Out of all the Cons, Max was the one he seemed to trust the most.

"We don't have time for this shit." He growled out, taking another swig of his drink.

Sandra clicked her tongue. "Come on, Max. Little son of a bitch deserves it after the shit day we had." She grabbed the man's shoulder, fluttering her eyes. "You know you want to." She said in a sultry voice.

Max, however, didn't fall prey to the trap so many had fallen into as he rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter." He mumbled, honestly disappointed himself that they didn't have any time for some _"fun"_ today. Peter, however, seemed all too relieved. The teen stood back up and slid past them. "I'm going upstairs." He whispered quietly, not bothering for a response as he kept walking.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt and throw him backward. "Where the _hell_ do you think you're going?" Max snarled as Peter stumbled back into place. "Did I _say_ you could leave?" He growled out, narrowing his eyes as he glared at the teen. ( _Stop talking you idiot!)_

Peter felt his chest begin to heave slightly as Max let out a growl. "You know, I told him this internship was a bad idea." He muttered as he stalked closer. "All it's going to do is fill your head up with thoughts you know you aren't allowed to have." He snarled, Peter flinching as he pointed his finger at his chest. His shaking hands slowly began to clench into fists.

"Well don't let this little romp with Tony fuckin' Stark get your head all in a twist, alright? Just cause that little shit is pretending to care about you doesn't mean you get to forget all of our rules, got it?" He snarled darkly, the other Cons moving closer.

Peter felt his teeth grinding together as a new foreign emotion began to bubble up in his chest. Usually, their words never phased him as much, not anymore at least, He'd gotten used to the harsh insults and dangerous threats. But today...something was different.

Maybe it was the fact he'd gotten a taste of respect today. Maybe it was Tony's words echoing through his mind, reassuring him that everything was okay. But whatever it was...he was tired of this.

"Do you even remember the rules? Must be hard with all the crap that's probably in your system." Peter muttered as he glared defiantly at the ground.

. . .

"What?"

Peter continued to glare for a moment longer before he seemed to blink back into reality, his words instantly flickering back. Oh, shit.

"Did you just get smart with me?!" Max shouted, stalking forward. "I think he just sassed me." He turned towards the others.

"He definitely just sassed you." Sandra muttered with a grim smile as the other boys moved towards Peter, placing strong hands on his shoulders.

The dark-skinned man pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he grinned. "Heh...alright, alright…" He murmured softly, glancing down at the glass still in his hand.

Suddenly, his hand flew up as he reared his arm back, chuckling the glass as hard as he could. With the Cons restricting his arms, Peter could do little more than turn his head to the side as the glass slammed into him, shattering into a million different pieces.

He shouted in pain and dropped to the floor, warm liquid dripping down the various cuts now spread out across his face. "What the hell is the matter with you?!" He shouted out before he could think better of it.

He suddenly felt the breath leave his body as a foot met his gut. He grunted and fell back to the floor. Another kick sent him sprawling onto his back. He grunted in pain as a heavy boot fell onto his chest. Placing his hands around the dirty material. "G...g-get off!" The teen groaned in pain as he felt his ribs protesting angrily at the added weight.

Max suddenly crouched down over him, placing a meaty hand around his throat as he pressed his head into the floor.

Peter turned his head to the side and gasped at the pressure around his neck, Max glaring darkly at him as he reached one hand behind him in an expectant gesture.

Curt grinned as he handed the man his knife.

Peter gazed wildly around the room as he fought to pry the man's hands off of his neck, his eyes rising up to meet the man's gaze as alarm bells exploded in his head. Max blinked in shock at the teen's stare before his lips parted in a snarl.

Peter gasped in pain as he felt the knife slash at the skin underneath his eye. Max leaned closer, squeezing his throat even tighter than before. "Did you just fucking _look_ at me?" He growled darkly before slashing Peter again.

"Don't you ** _ever_** fucking look at me, you little piece of shit!" He roared, banging Peter's head against the ground. The teen gasped as he fought to blink back stars and dark spots. Suddenly Max's face was in his vision again.

"You listen, and you listen good you little shit." He snarled. "Don't let this Stark guy get in your head, alright? Cause no matter what he says, no matter what you do...you will always be _nothing_." He snarled. "You're a waste of space. Nothing but a science experiment we like to keep around to play with, alright? You aren't worth shit."

He leaned down closer, his lips just above Peter's ears. "And you will _always_ belong to us."

Peter gasped for breath as Max finally released his hold on his neck. Quickly sitting up, the teen wrapped his hands around his now bruised and bloody neck as he coughed and hacked for air that could not fill his lungs fast enough. He could feel blood dripping down his face, mingling with the tears that had begun to stream down his cheeks.

"Come on," Max growled out, wiping the knife clean before handing it back to Curt. "Your father's waiting down in the lab. And I'm sure he'll have much more to say than I do." He grinned.

Peter stared at the floor for a moment longer before numbly rising up to his feet. Shakily wrapping his arms around himself as he tucked his chin against his chest, he slowly began to follow the Cons to the elevator

He couldn't feel his arm move, but he watched as it wiped at his face, blood smearing against his jacket sleeve. As it moved against his face, the sleeve was pushed up slightly, revealing the bruises on his arms, which were barely even noticeable anymore.

Peter didn't even bother to curse his accelerated healing anymore as he rolled his sleeve back down. Nobody listened to him. And even if they did, it's not like he could ever tell them.

He could _never_ tell them.

He couldn't even _look_ at them.

* * *

 _3) I Will Never_ _ **EVER**_ _make eye contact. . . . . . . . . with anybody but Tony Stark._

* * *

 **Shhhh... you hear that?**

 **That's the sound of the angst stick beating my characters to death.**

 **I love the angst stick.**

 **ANYWOO...here's a new chapter for all of you. I'm really going to try (keyword: try) and keep a consistent updating schedule for this story. My goal is to update biweekly, with new chapters on every other Sunday. I'm** ** _really_** **going to do my best to stick to this schedule, but with finals coming up for me, it's going to be rough.**

 **But hey! Once the summer starts, you should get chapter updates more often so HOORAY!**

 **Thanks to everybody for favoriting and/or following** ** _: TalkingElephant, BDM-girl, BabyPinkPuppy, DaughterofIris9, Mantic64, Rosie dragoneel, shivrashi, DigitalIceBlock, Purplequeen016, forsakenfoxshadow, JurrasicLlama, bobbinbird, hedgehodgy, kydh10, rosalieAKA, MarguaxUniverse, Sparky119, cargumentluv, Idreamofsimplethings, livingwithbooks, pattersonfan, CalliRachana, SecondsThe, NightFlower53, Roarasaurus, Llesija, WInchesterLov3r, chibijenn4, godgirl364, Filupafizbang, Tinyauroua, Jvin2866, Mahqueziles, Ftxfusion24, KShieru; Blahblahcat, Arrow-ShadowWolf, ForeverAlways1, NaruhinaFan13149, RedRyan17, powerrangersfangirl22, momocandy2, Jvin2866_**

 **Reviews:**

 **story2tell: Gracias! It's always one of my top goals whenever I'm writing a story to try something fresh and unique that nobody has ever done before, so I'm glad it makes you happy as well.**

 **Phoenixhp5: How can anybody not want to hug Peter? He's literally just a big ball of adorable goodness. Plus, well...I mean, they really should be used to whatever Tony can pull. He isn't the easiest person to manage after all.**

 **guacamole lover: You are very welcome, my loyal reader. Heck yeah! MJ is the best! Every story needs a kickass badass. Trust me, you should check out the first story I ever put on this site, it's so bad I'm not even kidding. (please don't actually. I just gained your respect). But seriously, my writing style started out so wonky. It was a literal atrocity. But as my stories moved along, I found myself falling into a grove with my style. It just takes time, man.**

 **P.s. homework DOES suck.**

 **Quertyweirdo: Yeah, I found myself doing it a lot more when my style of writing changed. I just like adding a bunch of DRAMATIC pauses *swishes random cape dramatically* It just helps me with my timing and pacing. No big.**

 **Nindragon: It's always fun to see how the characters you adore/look up to would handle tough situations. It's just a total trip, man! Who doesn't love it?!**

 **Toni42: Gracias, muchacho! Yeah, my chapters have really come a long way. They used to be only like 3000 words long. Psh! And now they're close to 15,000-20,000. XD**

 **Blueheart007: Character development literally gives me the will to live**


	5. Night Life

**Chapter 5: Night Life**

* * *

 **Monday - March 7, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Third Floor**

 **11:34 p.m.**

The sound of his door slamming shut behind him echoed out around the darkened room, mingling with the sound of Peter's harsh, ragged breathing. The teen pressed his back against the solid wood and shut his eyes tightly, willing his heart to stop pounding as his body shook.

After a moment of tense silence, Peter slowly felt his lungs unclench, his chest evenly expanding in and out once again. The teen let out a small sigh and pressed his hands against his face, wincing as his palms brushed up against the numerous bruises and scratched now marring the pale surface.

 _At least they were quick tonight._ The boy murmured to himself, though that didn't change the fact that the tests had, in turn, been that much more excruciating. The teen simply tried to shrug off the fact as best he could.

He was used to it by now.

Gingerly wiping the blood off of his face and arms, Peter glanced over at his bedside table, the digital clock on the table telling him it was _finally_ time to get the hell out of there. Letting a smile fall onto his face, the teen rushed over to his bed and undid the small side panel on his headboard.

Reaching inside, his fingers wrapped around the smooth, strong fabric of his suit. Pulling out the uniform, Peter paused for a moment and stared at the vivid red and blue design. The bright red contrasted the dark blue perfectly, the sleek black lines stretching out around the entire piece tying the two together. He ran his finger against the smooth eyepieces, blinking down in awe at the suit in his hands.

The fact still amazed him that this incredible suit was actually _his. H_ e had made due with his old suit, sure, but it didn't hold a candle to Tony's design. Of course, Peter had taken the liberty of transferring his web shooters and incorporating them into the suit itself, combining it with the already present web-tech that had been included.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Tony's engineering, it's just that Peter had already worked so hard on those specific designs. Plus, it was nice to have something that truly felt like _him_ incorporated into the high-tech multi-million dollar suit.

It was comforting.

Shaking away the distracting thoughts, Peter quickly changed into his suit, fingers brushing against the spider emblem in the center of his chest, the material conforming to perfectly coil around his muscles in a skin-tight suit.

The teen let out a small breath as he paused for a moment, turning his head to glance at himself in the mirror.

Peter Parker was nowhere in sight.

The person standing in his room was nothing like Peter. He wasn't weak and nervous. He wasn't cowardly and shy around everybody he met. He wasn't afraid to open his mouth and stand up for himself.

No, this was _Spider-Man_.

This was the protector of New York City. This was the guy that wouldn't hesitate to jump into the line of fire to do the job most others couldn't do. This was the guy that stood up for the people that couldn't stand up for themselves. This was the guy worth knowing. This was the guy worth _being._

Peter felt a smirk form on his face as he stole one last glance towards his closed bedroom door before yanking the mask down over his head. Skittering over to the balcony, Spider-man yanked open the doors and jumped onto the railing, balancing perfectly on the thin metal pole. He stared out at the bright lights of Manhattan farther in the distance, a large smile forming underneath the mask.

 _Time to go to work._

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Upper Manhattan - East Harlem**

 **12:56 a.m.**

"Would you _fucking GET THEM_ already?!" The man snarled as he pressed his foot as hard as he could into the gas pedal.

His partner reloaded the gun before sticking his head back out the car window, a hail of bullets shooting out of the machine. The cop cars speeding behind them swerved to avoid the oncoming attack as best they could. "What the _hell_ does it look like I'm doing?!" He shouted back as he grit his teeth and aimed towards the windshield.

"Well I don't know about you, but to _me_ , it sure looks like you're doing a real good job of _missing."_

The strange new voice as well as the sudden screech of shock from his partner had the man turning to glare, only for his eyes to widen as he caught sight of a red and blue-clad figure now crouching on the hood of the car casually. Spidey gave a small wave. "Sup?"

The two men stared at the figure for a moment longer before the driver whipped his head to stare at his partner. "Well don't just _sit_ there, idiot! SHOOT HIM!"

"Ooo! There we go! Thinking on our toes aren't we?" Spider-Man quipped as he flipped up onto the top of the car. "No wonder you geniuses haven't been caught yet!"

Leaning towards the side to avoid the stream of bullets that shot out of the top of the car, Spidey let out a laugh as he glanced behind him at the cops still chasing. By this point, they were sticking their head out the window to get a clear view of just what the _heck_ was going on.

He gave another wave.

. . .

They tentatively waved back.

Turning back towards the cars, he ducked underneath another wave of bullets and scooted closer towards the front. Rearing his fist back, the teen punched through the glass, eliciting another bout of shrieks from the thugs. "Oh, your war cries! Terrifying!"

His hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun, where he promptly crushed the metal underneath his grip, smoke sprouting from the end. The man yelped in shock and threw the smoking device to the ground as he whipped his head back up, only to scream as Spidey grabbed the front of his collar and lifted him out of his seat, literally _throwing_ him from the car.

The man shrieked loudly as he prepared himself to splat against the asphalt underneath, only to balk as he landed in something sticky and bouncy. Opening his eyes, he found he was now trapped in a large web suspended in the air between two light posts.

Not five second later, the man saw his partner be ejected from the speeding car in the exact same fashion. Suddenly, bright flashing red and blue lights entered his vision as he caught sight of the approaching cops.

 _"Shit..."_

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Central Manhattan - East** **Midtown**

 **01:13 a.m.**

"Hurry up and put it in!" The woman growled as she fired off another round of bullets. The employees all whimpered in fear as they pulled their hands up over their heads from their positions on the ground.

The man behind the bank counter shakily grabbed another handful of cash before stuffing it into the brown bag being thrust into his chest. The masked woman held the gun close to her body as her two male partners watched the hostages closely to make sure none of them tried to press any emergency buttons.

"Huh...they're really cracking down on security checks in these places haven't they?" Spider-Man called as he crawled in through one of the windows before promptly taking a seat on the ledge. "You gonna try and pat me down, ma'am? Cause I gotta say, I will _not_ tolerate you getting frisky." He muttered before jumping down to land next to the armed woman.

He suddenly found the barrel of a gun being pointed at his chest. "Get on the ground, you freak!" The woman shouted.

Spidey stared back at her, glanced down at the gun pointed at his chest and then lifted his head once again. "Can't these people ever get more creative with their weapons?" He turned to ask one of the hostages currently cowering near his feet. "I mean, seriously? I know it's efficient and whatever, but you could at least try to be a little more original. Like, nobody's ever been held at _laser_ -point before."

The man gave him an incredulous look before wondering whether or not the hero wanted him to _actually_ answer. The woman holding the gun held a similar look of bewilderment, Spider-Man taking the opportunity to grab the barrel of the gun and yank it out of the woman's hands before decking her in the chin, sending her sprawling to the ground. "See? That never would have happened with a _laser."_

Leaping over her, Spidey quickly slid underneath the legs of one of the two men and grabbed his ankles, yanking him to the ground as he did so. The other man charged over, only for Spidey to shoot out a low-lying web string, tripping the man before he could even get within range of him.

The teen watched with a bored eye as the two crooks slammed into each other before falling to the floor, groaning loudly. Shaking his head, SPidey noticed the numerous bills currently strewn about the room from when the woman dropped her bag.

Next to him, one hostage eyed a stack of bills next to him. He tentatively reached a hand out towards them only for Spidey to slap his hand and wiggle a finger in his face. "No! Bad hostage! Bad!"

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Upper West Side - West 59th Street**

 **01:35 a.m.**

The man let out a harsh breath as he gripped the purse in his hand tighter and continued to sprint, the woman's indignant cries sounding off behind him as he ran.

He felt a malicious grin form on his face as he glanced over his shoulder and found that nobody was giving chase after him, only to turn back forward and shout in shock, skidding to a stop in front of Spider-Man, who was slowly clapping. "Mmm...congrats, man. You have officially become the most _unoriginal_ crook in the history of ever." He snickered.

The man blinked in shock for a moment before balling his fist and swinging it towards the masked vigilante. Spidey barely even moved, simply leaning backward to avoid the hit before crossing his arms behind his back as he gave a small sigh. "You know, it's guys like you that give crooks and robbers a bad name." He scolded before taking another step back as the man threw another punch.

Spidey quickly caught the man's third punch and fired a web at the robber's chest, flipping him backwards as he proceeded to wrap the man entirely in the sticky fluid. "What the _hell,_ man?!' The crook shouted as he fell to the ground in a cocoon of webbing.

The teen casually grabbed the purse off of the ground and pulled out a stick of gum. Leaning down towards the downed crook, the hero quickly stuck the candy into the man's mouth, much to the robber's shock.

"See? It's much easier to chew that when you're not walking at the same time, isn't it?" He called before leaping back into the air.

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Lower Manhattan - East Village**

 **01:54 a.m.**

"I thought you said he was a cat!"

The teen's eyes widened behind the mask as he caught sight of a large white and orange snake that was currently curled around one of the tree's higher branches and . . . was it _glaring_ at him?!

Oh, it totally was.

Spider-Man stole one last glance at the little girl currently staring up nervously at him before he let out a small sigh and crept closer to the reptile. A loud hiss sounded out through the air, to which the teen reared back, arms flailing in shock.

"Jesus, this is the scariest thing of the _night_!" The vigilante grimaced, ignoring the sad fact that he'd been held at _gun-point_ not even half an hour ago.

Exhaling loudly through his nose, the teen wrapped a hand around the snake's body and carefully unhooked it from the branch. "Ew, ew, ew, ew..." He breathed softly before letting out a high-pitch, almost inaudible cry as the snake began to coil around his arm instead.

Carefully jumping back down to the ground, the teen quickly rushed over to the little girl and thrust the reptile into her open arms. "Mittens!" She called as the snake wrapped around her.

"Seriously? Mittens? The thing doesn't even have any _frikkin_ feet!"

The girl gave him a deadpanned look. "Give me a break. This is the closest thing I'm ever getting to a cat, alright?"

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Central Manhattan - Upper East Side**

 **02:07 a.m.**

Peter stared out over the bright lights of the city, legs swinging happily as he sat on the roof ledge of the tall building. His mask lay next to him as he took in the sight of the bright lights and flickering neon signs. The sound of honking horns and wailing broadcasts met his ears as the teen let a content smile fall onto his face.

Lifting his hand to his mouth, he took another bite of his churro.

He'd have to remember where that lady lived so he could bring her some pastries later.

The teen finished off his latest form of _repayment_ and stepped away from the ledge, jumping back down onto the main room of the building. Peter had been coming to this exact building for as long as he could remember; before he'd ever even _considered_ the idea of _Spider-Man._

The building had long been abandoned, which is the state Peter had found the rooftop garden in. Discarded and forgotten. When he'd first found it, everything was a complete mess. The plants were overflowing out of their pots, which were cracked and broken. The glass windows on the small greenhouse in the back corner were shattered and dusty, while the wooden canopy was rotted and broken.

Most people would have just labeled it a lost cause and simply moved on.

But not Peter.

It had taken _years_ of hard work, splinters, and smuggling money from his father, but he'd finally been able to restore the garden to its former glory, successfully creating a secret safe haven for himself. Something _nobody_ else knew about, not even Ned.

The plants were perfectly trimmed and lushly green, small buds and flowers sprouting from the foliage, contrasting the dark colors of the asphalt around them. The restored greenhouse held an assortment of different fruits and vegetables inside, Peter considering it his personal produce aisle.

The teen plucked a strawberry from one of the nearby bushes and popped it into his mouth as he took a seat on one of the small wooden chairs near the building ledge. He'd positioned the chair perfectly so that he got a clear shot of both Central Park and the farther-distanced Town Square, the bright lights and loud sounds acting as a sort of beacon for the bustling center.

The teen leaned forward and placed his elbows on the ledge, resting his cheeks on his clenched fists as he felt the cooling breeze wrap around him, blowing his hair in all directions. As usual, the sky was a mixture of deep blues and dark blacks, harsh grey clouds of smog and smoke scattered throughout. The bright lights of the city below shone throughout the sky, breaking any chance of the stars to be seen. The small pinpricks of twinkling light simply couldn't compete with the sheer magnitude of NYC.

However, Peter couldn't help but smile softly as he caught sight of the moon peeking through the thick clouds, its pale white glow illuminating the rolling grey hills in the sky a painted silver. As his eyes trailed over the moon's glow, they caught sight of another, equally bright symbol in the distance.

Stark Tower shone brightly despite the numerous other lights surrounding it, acting as a sort of beacon in the distance. Peter's smile faltered slightly as he caught sight of the building, his mind running through everything it represented and reminded him of.

 _This is a horrible idea..._ Peter mumbled to himself. _You know this is only going to end badly, Peter. You know it. So why the hell are you even debating this?_

It was true. He _knew_ this tie with Tony Stark could only end disasterously, his interaction with the Cons earlier tonight simply confirming that. Despite what his father and the others assumed, Peter wasn't stupid. In fact, he was quite the opposite. He knew _exactly_ why his father had agreed to the internship.

He was using him. . . again.

Peter had known it the second Mr. Stark had come up to his room that night. He'd known it the second he'd heard that his father had agreed. He'd known it the second Mr. Stark left and he was left alone with them...

 _I never should have agreed to this..._

He should have just refused Mr. Stark's offer. He should have just made up a lie to his father saying the billionaire had retracted his offer. He should have lied. He should have simply shaken the man's hand and forgotten about him. He had enough he already had to deal with. This was _not_ going to make things better.

. . .

And yet. . .

Peter's eyes flitted back over to Stark Tower. The teen would be lying if he said today hadn't been one of the best he'd had in. . . _forever._ Sure it'd had its ups and downs, but the teen knew if given the choice, he wouldn't hesitate in doing it all over again. Despite the numerous people, despite the uncertainty of unfamiliar territory, despite the nervousness that ate at his stomach...

With the robots, with FRIDAY, with the inventions, with...Mr. Stark. . . . he'd actually been... _happy_.

Peter honestly couldn't remember when he'd last felt comfortable around someone he'd only recently met. Sure Mr. Stark could be intimidating, but Peter got a strange feeling that the man simply put up a facade to deal with the kinds of people he had to on a daily basis.

He couldn't be too sure, but the teen wondered if maybe he'd seen something in the man that not many others had seen before. After all, it wasn't often someone was concerned enough to pry into his life.

He quickly disregarded the notion with a scoff, berating himself with the fact that someone like Tony Stark wouldn't actually be _concerned_ about him. The realization of said fact made the teen's hands clench slightly. Just what was Stark _playing_ at? What did he hope to accomplish in offering him an internship? What was he _planning?_

The teen relayed over the man's words from the previous night. " _...he was a little hesitant at first, but I was able to convince him to go along with it."_ Peter tried to settle the quesy feeling forming in his stomach. _Did you convince him...or did_ he _convince_ you? He wondered to himself, knowing better than anyone that when his father wanted something, _nothing_ could stand in his way. Nothing.

As the thought swirled around his head, a worse one appeared. _Are you_ working _with him_?

Peter felt himself shaking at the thought that Mr. Stark was actually working _alongside_ his father, that maybe this was all a great big ploy. Nothing more than another one of his tricks, another one of his _tests._

And yet...as Peter recalled his talk with Tony from a few hours back, he couldn't help but linger on the expressions on the man's face whenever his father was brought up. They weren't tense. They weren't afraid.

They were...disgusted.

Peter couldn't help but let out an amused snort. It was refreshing, he had to admit. Seeing someone react to his father's name in disdain rather than spewing out ass-kissing compliments and appraisals.

As he recalled the man, Peter found himself dwelling back to their conversations. They had been... _interesting_ to say the least. It'd been a while since Peter had blown up like that. The teen was still berating himself for slipping up like that. But...there was something...strange he had felt when he'd done it back there. It was different from all the other times he had slipped up in a lie or an excuse.

For the first time in a long time, Peter had felt... _hopeful?_ He couldn't be too sure of _what_ it was he felt exactly, but the teen knew it was strange. It was the same feeling he got whenever someone else other than Ned noticed his bruises or the fact that he was limping down the hallways. It was the same feeling he got whenever he was out with his father or the Cons in public. It was the same feeling he'd had at five when the police had shown up.

It was the feeling of freedom, of salvation. It was the hope that someone... _anyone_ would finally stop being so blind and help him.

 _You're an idiot, Parker._

Just as it had before, just as it _always_ did, the feeling vanished. He knew it was untrue. He knew it would never come to pass. He'd made his peace with that long ago, and he had promised himself to _never_ let himself feel that ever again!

. . .

. . .

So what happened?

What _exactly_ caused him to lash out like that?

" _It's alright, Peter. I promise it is."_

Peter felt a small smile spread on his lips. He knew he couldn't trust Mr. Stark. He could _idolize_ him. He could _adore_ him. But he couldn't trust him. He couldn't trust _anyone_ , childhood hero or not. And nothing, not internships, not jokes, not even kind words would _ever_ get him to trust the man. He just...couldn't, for Tony's sake.

. . .

. . .

But still. . . . . it had felt nice to have someone to sit with.

. . .

Peter held his gaze on Stark Tower for a moment longer before lowering his head with a tired sigh. "Uhh...what have you gotten yourself into, Pete?" He muttered to himself.

Suddenly, his ears picked up a small, low-sounding boom that resonated through the air. Whipping his head up, his eyes could make out a flashing light father up in the distance, near the center of the city. One that stood out from the others.

Rising up from his seat, Peter lept up onto the edge and crouched down, narrowing his eyes as he strained to get a better visual. Judging from how far the boom had sounded as well as where the light was flashing, Peter lined it up with being right near. . .

 _"Oscorp?_ But what's-" He paused mid-sentence as his eyes widened. "Shit..." He gaped out before quickly seizing his mask and yanking it over his head. _There's a hit_ tonight?! _How the hell did I not realize that?_ The teen mentally screamed at himself as he leapt from the ledge, shooting out a line as he began to swing through the air. _God, this is what happens when you don't pay attention to those shit-eaters, you fucking idiot!_ He snarled as he swung as fast as he could towards the lab.

"Alright...correction: what are you _getting_ yourself into, Pete?"

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Midtown West - Oscorp Central Labs**

 **02:15 a.m.**

His feet made no sound as he landed on the rooftop. He slowly crouched down and began to move along the edge as he craned his neck to gain a view of what was happening below.

The bright lights that lined the outer edge of the Oscorp building shone brightly, though even their luminescence did little to light the alleyway with which one of the building's back doors was connected. But Peter could see all too clearly.

There were three of them, two men and a woman. They were dressed in all black, including the masks adorning their faces. Narrowing his eyes, Spidey couldn't help the grimace that formed as he saw the insignia etched into the left cheek of each of the masks.

A small butterfly.

 _Yep...should have known..._ the teen muttered to himself, the light of hope that this little heist wasn't what he thought it was quickly dying.

He noticed a hidden van deeper into the alleyway, concealed by the numerous shadows. The masked people were exiting out of a perfectly clean hole in the building wall, hauling case after case of what Spidey could assume to be worth _millions_ out towards the truck.

He could just make out the sound of hushed yelling, watching as the woman turned to glare at one of the two men. She then marched over towards the wall and pulled something Peter couldn't make out from her belt. Holding the unidentifiable object in her hand, Peter watched as four small metallic devices shot away from the corners of the hole in the wall and attached to the device. As they were ripped away from the wall, the hole sealed up perfectly, leaving no trace of it ever having existed.

Quickly realizing the group was soon to make their escape, Spider-Man narrowed his eyes and raised himself up, firing a web at the wall before him as he leapt from the building, swinging down towards the group.

A shout of shock escaped one of the man's lips as Spidey slammed his feet into his side, sending him flying as the teen landed on the ground. The other two remaining thugs stared at him as he did so, the teen giving a small wave. "Hey, you guys. Out for a midnight stroll? Man, I love those too. Mind if I tag along?!" He shot his fist forward, ramming it into the masked face of the second man, who fell backwards.

"Ug! It's the Spider-brat the boss told us about!" The woman snarled, eyes narrowing as she dodged the teen's next punch. "So now what?" THe first man asked as he rose back up to his feet from farther down the alley.

Spider-Man narrowed his eyes as he met the gaze of the woman. Despite the fact that she was wearing a mask, the teen was almost certain a smile was growing on her face. "What he ordered..." She answered slowly as she clenched her fists, eyes glowing a pale green.

Spidey faltered at this. _Shit..._

Without warning, the woman's palm whirred and opened up as she raised her hand, a bright green blast shooting out of the newly formed gun. Spidey narrowly dodged the blast as he leapt out of the way, rolling along the ground as he heard the blast slam into the wall behind him. A spray of shattered pieces of brick and stone pelleted his back as he whipped his head back up, only to see a huge boulder hurtling towards his face.

"CRAP!" Spidey shouted as he flattened himself to the ground, the boulder sailing over his head. Leaping up to his feet, he shot a web towards the woman, the fluid catching on her arm... _gun..._ whatever. However, the first man jumped forward, thrusting his hands out as an onslaught of large rocks followed his movements, shooting down towards the teen.

Flipping backwards, Spidey landed on the ground and fired another two webs, sticking them to the man's feet before yanking hard. The man shouted out as he fell to the ground, where the teen fired another round of webs, trapping him to the dirty concrete.

Suddenly, Spider-Man shouted out in pain as he felt metal connect with his side, sending him skidding backward. Letting out a hiss of pain, the teen lifted his head to see the second man glaring at him through the mask. However, Spidey's eyes were trailed to the man's arm - more specifically, his _skin._

It was solid steel.

The teen sighed. "I knew it was gonna be a bad day today." He muttered to himself as he slowly rose back up to his feet, narrowed eyes trailing on the three enhanced forms before him.

"Our boss is getting real tired of you interfering with our jobs, you brat." Peter heard the first man say. He was just gonna call him Rocky.

"And I'm sure he'd love to hear we were finally able to take you down." The cyborg woman grinned while the last metal man - Steel - clenched his fingers, the hard steel grating against each other. "Guess it's about time we remedy that little problem."

Spidey smirked. "Bring it on, stooges."

Two boulders were instantly carved out of the ground, hurtling towards him at bone-breaking speeds. Leaping into the air, Spider-Man leapt on top of one boulder, flipped onto the other, and finally landed on the shoulders of Rocky, swinging around the man to kick Cyborg's side, the woman shouting out as she was sent hurtling backwards.

Feeling a large hand wrap around his arm, Spidey watched as Steel charged for him, only to drag Rocky down to the ground with him, allowing the two men to trip over each other.

Suddenly, the teen felt a white hot searing pain flare up in his shoulder as he let out a shout of pain. Ducking towards the ground, the teen glanced over his back and noticed his shoulder was now smoking along with the barrel of the woman's arm.

Narrowing his eyes, Spidey fired a web at one of the large smashed rock pieces around him and flung it towards the woman, who fired another beam at the projectile, blasting it into dust. However, it was enough of a distraction for Spidey to surge forward, ramming a punch against the woman's side.

The cyborg grunted but didn't back down as she threw a punch of her own. Spider-Man ducked below it and kicked his leg out, sweeping her feet out from under her. A sudden tingling in the back of his head caused him to flip out of the way as three more boulders shot past his head, only for the teen to groan as they swung back around and began to gun for him once again.

Turning on his heel, he noticed Rocky maneuvering the rocks with his hands while Steel reared his arm back, connecting a punch with the ground beneath him.

A large shockwave rolled through the concrete, rock and asphalt waves unbalancing the teen, who grunted as large boulders slammed into his back.

"Ugg, come on, guys! It's a school night!" He shouted before firing a web at Steel, who grunted as the fluid slapped over his eyes, effectively blinding him.

Swinging forward, Spidey landed a hard kick on Rocky, the man flying backwards into Steel. The two collapsed in a jungle of limbs

A sudden humming behind him made him whip around, only to mutter another string of curses as he watched a handful of missiles fire off from the woman's shoulder. "You have missiles too?!" He growled before firing off numerous small bundles of web.

The small blasts connected with the tips of the misles, driving them off course, where they exploded against eh walls, the ground, the...the fire escape above...crap.

"Shit…" Peter muttered as he heard the tell-tale creak of metal snapping. The melting material began to separate from its binding as the entire metal structure began to fall to the ground.

Diving backwards, the teen was barely able to avoid being crushed by the tangled metal as it crushed the van below it, effectively destroying the vehicle and shrouding the alley in a plume of dust and smoke. Taking a second to catch his breath, the hero slowly rose back up to his feet.

"GAH!" He shouted as he felt another hot blast slam into his chest, sending him flying out of the alley and into the street. Whipping his head up, he watched as the three enhanced charged for him, now looking even angrier than before. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he'd just crushed their escape vehicle and most likely whatever it was they had inside.

"So...I'm guessing you guys don't have car insurance…?" He tried, only for them to completely ignore his words. "Right…"

Lifting his arms, the teen blocked the aerial kick the woman threw, pushing her backwards just in time to duck and counter a punch by Rocky before throwing him into Steel. Now that they were out of the confines of the small, compact alleyway, they had much more room to space out.

Taking advantage of the spaced surroundings, Spidey fired a web at one of the nearby buildings and propelled himself forward, ramming his feet into the faces of both the cyborg and the metal man.

Safe to say, Peter assumed the move had hurt him much more than it'd hurt them.

Letting out a hiss of pain as he dropped back to the ground, Spidey fired another bout of webbing at the woman, only to have her blast right through them before hitting him in the shoulder. Shouting out in pain as he was flung backwards, Spidey let out a yelp and rolled away right as a metal fist connected with the cement where his head had been moments ago.

The teen lifted his head, only to feel another boulder slam into his chest, sending him skidding backwards against the asphalt. Letting out a shaky breath, the teen placed a tentative hand on his chest, wincing as he felt his ribs shift slightly.

The teen groaned in pain as he lay on the asphalt, the tree slowly approaching with harsh glowing eyes.

Turning his gaze towards the side, Spider-Man took notice of the fact that there were people on the street either watching or filming what was happening with tentative faces and nervous expressions.

 _Alright, Pete. No more fooling around._ He growled to himself. There were too many people here to continue fighting. They had to end this now.

Narrowing his eyes, the teen slowly rose back up to his feet as he glared back at the three in front of him. The woman let out a chuckle. "Aww..would you look at that. Little baby's still trying."

Rocky scoffed. "Welp, we've already lost out score. Might as well have a little fun with him, now."

Clenching his fists, Spidey flashed them a grin he knew they couldn't see. But he was sure they could hear his smile in the way he said his next words. "I'm pretty sure I'll be the one having all the fun from here on out."

Steel smirked. "Oh really? Well let's just see about that."

Cyborg raised up her arm once more, firing another blast at the teen. Spidey barely moved as he twisted his body to the side, narrowly missing the beam. Lifting his hands, Rocky shot three more boulders towards the teen while Steel charged him once again.

Spidey jumped into the air as he landed on each boulder as they flew past, leaping off as he fired a web at the last passing rock, swinging it forward with his momentum. The rock slammed into Steel's side, sending him barreling through the glass front doors of Oscorp, a loud alarm sounding out through the air.

The two remaining thugs blinked in mild shock at the display before refocusing back into their prey. Cyborg lifted both of her arms this time, however, her other arm didn't simply open up. Instead, the skin around it began to separate, pulling backwards as a large blaster appeared from the metal underneath her pale skin.

Letting out a growl, the woman began to fire a barrage of blasts at the teen while Rocky continued to hurl boulder after boulder at him.

Spidey clenched his fists as he tensed his muscles. Skirting past the boulders, the teen ducked and leapt over the blasts as they whizzed by, feeling their heat through his suit as he did so.

As he continued to duck and dodge the projectiles and blasts, he began to make his way towards the two until he was a mere few feet from them. Leaping up, the teen tackled Rocky to the ground, the boulders falling to the floor as the man lost his concentration.

Letting out a furious roar, the man wrapped his hands around the teens wrists as he tried to overpower him, only to find he was not the strongest one out of the two.

Spidey growled as he threw a hard punch towards the man's face, effectively disorienting him enough to pick him up and hurl him towards the woman, who gasped and leapt out of the way before her partner slammed into the ground. He didn't get back up.

Letting out a snarl, the woman raised u her arms once again, only to gape in shock as Spidey shot forward, clenching her forearms in his grasp.

She narrowed her eyes and lifted her leg to kick out at him, only for the teen to twist her around and flip her onto the ground. Before she could retaliate, she screamed out as she felt circuits and wires snap as the teen squeezed her arms, the guns whirring and screeching as they died. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" The teen cried as he continued to squeeze before finally letting go, leaping away from the fuming woman as she glared down at her arms before throwing the teen a deathly look. "Oh come on! You so asked for it!"

The woman had no time to utter a retort before a large metal fist was slamming into the teen's chest, sending him skidding backwards into one of the nearby stores. Spidey felt something crack as he crashed into the wall, falling down to the floor with a groan where he let out a harsh cough of pain. "Shit…" He uttered for about the seventeenth time that night. "I forgot how much that hurts." He whined softly as he fought to blink back the dots blazing in front of his face at the pain in his chest, which felt like he'd just stabbed white hot knives into his ribs.

Quickly remembering where he was and what was happening around him, the teen slowly - very slowly began to sit back up, arms shaking as he did so. He could feel glass shards poking into the suit, thankful that the strong material didn't allow the sharp edges to nick his skin as he pushed the wooden beams and brick pieces off of him. He painfully pushed through the debris and leapt back onto the street, only to let out a groan of frustration as he realized the only people on the street were him and the shocked bystanders.

 _Crap…_ He muttered to himself, the sound of approaching police sirens reaching his ears. Taking a moment to run back into the alleyway, Spider-Man cautiously moved through the mess of tangled metal that had once been the fire escape. Careful to avoid the small fires that burned around the mess, the teen moved over toward the back of the crushed truck, the doors bent and crushed together.

The fact did little to phase him, however, as he gripped the door handle and yanked the doors clean off their hinges. Inside, the teen saw numerous metal cases lining the crushed walls of the van. Yanking them out of the back, the teen carefully stacked them up against the alleyway wall before sticking them together with webbing, making sure nobody else could stumble upon the little goldmine.

As he heard the sound of cars pulling up, the teen knew he had to make his leave. Leaping up towards the wall, the teen quickly began to scale the brick structure before flipping over onto the roof of the building right next to Oscorp.

Fumbling for his mask, Spidey yanked it off the second he was out of sight, allowing a relieved breath to pass through his lips as he took a second to relax. Peter let out a small groan as he rested the back of his head against the ledge, the injuries sustained in the fight now beginning to show through as his adrenaline wore off.

Peter opened his tired eyes as voices met his ears. Blinking back his exhaustion, the teen strained to make out what was being said, though with his advanced hearing he could pretty much make out every single word.

"It's over here! . . . Shit, what the hell is this stuff made out of anyways?!"

"I don't know. Just be grateful this crap's even here at all. This is - what - the fifth tech robbery in the past three weeks?"

 _Actually it's the seventh, but who's counting?_ Peter muttered to himself.

"What's the word from the civilians?"

"Apparently there were three suspects dressed in all black with...i think they said _masks..._ Anyway, they were apparently fighting Spider-Man before all four fled the scene."

"Well they made one hell of a mess."

 _Yeah, you would too if you had some psychos trying to blast holes in you and crush you with flying boulders! Oh, and you're welcome by the way!"_

"Like I said, Morgan. Just be grateful this tech is still here. These psychos could make a shitload of money selling this crap to god-knows-who."

 _Yeah...if their goal was to actually_ sell _it..._

"They said a group, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You know, every report we've gotten on these robberies describe a group of people in all black with strange masks. You think maybe we're dealing with a gang or something?"

 _Well you're not that far off._

"I don't know...I guess it'd make sense. But all anyone's been able to get on these guys is that they all wear these weird masks with some sort of symbol on them. Every robbery they conduct is either identified the next morning or broken up by this Spider-guy. For some reason, they never trip any alarms, security protocols, nothing!"

"So they're smart..."

 _No...their boss is smart._

"Well that at least separates them from most of the criminal gangs around here, so that's a start."

The two cops chuckled slightly before falling silent, Peter taking it as a sign of their departure. The sound of more engines revving told him that more officers were now arriving on the scene, meaning they could handle everything from here.

Pulling his mask back on, Peter slowly rose back up to his feet, letting out a barely audible groan as he did so. _Could be worse, Parker._ He muttered to himself. _Just be grateful_ he _didn't send out the elite squad tonight or you'd be more than just sore._ He grumbled.

Still, it was hard to ignore the way his shoulder and chest shrieked in protest as he fired off a web at one of the taller buildings in the distance, nor the fiery pain coursing through his abdomen as he swung through the air.

 _That's enough for tonight, Spidey..._

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Private Lab 1**

 **06:47 p.m.**

Tony hissed in pain as he ripped his hand away from the device, glaring down at the circuits that had shocked him.

The man let out an annoyed sigh as he forcefully slammed the screwdriver in his other hand down on the metal table in his lab. He ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down his face. He could feel his exhaustion pulling at his muscles as if trying to drag him towards his bed, but the man knew there was no point. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyways.

The sound of whirring off to the side as well as a soft banging made his lift his head. DUM-E was currently running back and forth into one of the other nearby tables. Thankfully, the only thing on top of the metal surfaces were papers and blueprints. Nothing breakable.

Rolling his eyes at the antics of his malfunctioning robot, Tony was about to delve back into working on the piece for his new suit when his eyes caught a glimpse of the TV hanging above DUM-E's head.

"FRIDAY, turn up the volume."

 _"-and we're now getting confirmation that Oscorp has now been the the seventh of a numerous string of different robberies plaguing the technologies manufacturing companies of New York. Live at the scene is Robert Malshaw. Robert?"_

 _"Jen, we are here at Oscorp, where earlier this morning, an exciting battle took place here with different eyewitnesses placing local hero, Spider-Man at the scene. Reports describe the masked vigilante fighting off against three masked individuals. But, Jen, one of the most shocking developments is that many people are now saying the suspects were perhaps...enhanced individuals._

 _However, despite the fact that the suspects were able to flee the scene of the crime, police have confirmed that all the stolen tech was accounted for behind the back alley of Oscorp, secured in a web-like substance that many around here can safely assume came from our local hero._

 _At the moment, police have still been unable to crack down any key points or suspects in the robberies, there are rumors that each of these cases are somehow connected. But one thing is for certain, the people around here are pretty certain the police won't be alone in this little endeavor, if those webs have any indication. Jen?"_

Tony lowered his gaze, running his fingers over the screwdriver in his hand before lightly tapping the handle on the table. "Not bad, kid." He murmured as he glanced back down at the new suit piece before him. He'd have to make sure to check up on the kid on Wednesday. Make sure he didn't do anything stupid to get himself hurt.

He checked his watch. There weren't any notifications or alarms coming in from the kid's suit, so he had to be alright.

Shaking his head, Tony tried to push the kid out of his mind. He'd wasted enough time today thinking about the teen. He didn't need to use up any more.

He was about to ask FRIDAY to turn the volume back down, only to freeze at the next words he heard.

 _"In other news, it has now been a little more than two weeks since it was officially declared that Captain Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Scott Lang, Clint Barton and Wanda Maximoff were fugitives of the nation and wanted criminals."_

 _T_ ony hesitantly lifted his head back up.

 _This development sparked after the controversial signing of the Sokovia Accords. After refusing to sign the new laws, Captain America aided in the escape of wanted fugitive James Barnes as well as resisting arrest with the aid of numerous other Avengers._

 _Not long after their imprisonment in an undisclosed location, Steve Rogers was responsible for the escape of his allies before their disappearance."_

Tony felt his grip on the screwdriver in his hand tightening.

 _"This situation has been the center of many bouts of controversy among people of the world, including our own New York. Here with you now, we have several local statements about the unfolding situation."_

The screen changed to a new person - a woman - on the streets, a large microphone being held up to her. _"If you ask me, I say this whole thing is a load of shit. The Avengers were designed to protect us, not squabble like children. I say you just throw them in a room together and force them to make up or something. I mean, like...come on!"_

A new person appeared. Male.

 _"If you ask me, I'd say it was about damn time. You know, I lost my house in that damn alien invasion a few years back. Who do you think had to work two jobs after that, huh? Definitely not that Tony Stark I'll tell you that! So if these Accord things drive a little responsibility into that damn group, then I say go for it."_

One by one, more people popped up on screen.

 _"This has to be some sort of misunderstanding. The Avengers are heroes. They're not the bad guy. They FIGHT the bad guys!"_

. . .

 _"I say they finally got what they deserve. Those freaks had it coming. All they do is stir up trouble and act without any consequences! It's about time someone put them in their place."_

. . .

 _"This is definitely that Tony Stark's fault! He's always been a pompous douchebag and now he's gone and dragged the rest of those heroes down with him! Why doesn't he get thrown in jail? He causes just as much damage as the rest of them! If you ask me, he's the worst out of all of them."_

 _. . ._

" _I just want to say...Captain America saved my life once. I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for him. So I don't care what the news says. I don't care what anybody says. He'll always be a hero to me. They all will."_

. . .

 _"You know what? Tony Stark can go and-"_

"Turn it off."

The furious man's words were cut off before he could finish his thought, but the fact didn't make Tony feel any better.

The man fiddled with the screwdriver for a moment before taking notice in the fact that it was now bent slightly. Letting out a sigh, the man carelessly tossed the tool over his shoulder, a soft clatter reaching his ears.

He'd known it was a bad idea from the start.

Bring together a group of _extraordinary_ people to do e _xtraordinary_ things. On paper, sure. Maybe it could work out. Maybe things would go as planned.

But they never did. With people, there were always one too many variables. Now add a superhuman element to those people and you're looking at a real problem. Add an attitude issue and internal squabbling and you're looking at _disaster_ waiting to happen.

Well...guess they weren't really _waiting_ anymore.

He knew it never would have worked. But...for a while there, things had looked as if they actually...might.

After New York, after people saw what they could do together, things had looked up. Sure, they hadn't exactly liked each other during that little situation, but even with their fighting they'd still been able to come together to do something amazing.

Sokovia had done even more so. Once again, they had fought. But just as before, they'd moved past it and came together to do something great.

Well here they were now.

As he'd said before, on paper...sure. Maybe they could have found a way to work through it. Maybe they could have compromised to find a solution to the Accords. Maybe they could have moved past it.

Maybe things would have gone as planned.

But they never did.

They had fought. But this time, there was no moving past it. There was no coming together. There was nothing great, nothing amazing, nothing...extraordinary.

No...it was simply... _broken_.

Tony had known it was a bad idea. But he'd still found a family in the group. He'd found a family in those new friends, in those...extraordinary people.

He'd found confidants in Natasha and Bruce. He'd found friends in Clint, Sam and Thor. And he'd almost found a brother in Steve, something he'd only ever seen in one other man, and that was because he'd known Rhodes for most of his teenage and adult life.

He'd trusted them.

The man glared down at the machine at his hands, picking it up as he traced his fingers over the metal and wires.

And then, the one time he'd actually been a hundred percent sure of his actions...the one time he'd needed his friends...his family behind him… they turned their backs on him.

His grip on the device tightened.

They betrayed him. _He_ betrayed him! The one person he'd begun to count on to always have his back. The one person he'd finally begun to enjoy having around.. _.talking_ to. The one person he'd valued as a friend the most.

The billionaire clenched his eyes and grit his teeth tightly as he fought to gain control over the erratic beating of his heart. But even the sound of blood rushing through his ears as well as the piercing whine shooting through his skull wasn't enough to drown out the words swirling around his head.

 _You did this._

Tony could feel the metal beginning to dig into his skin as he clenched his fist around it.

 _You drove them away. You drive_ everyone _away_.

Steve had simply thrown it all away. And for what? For an askew moral compass? For a secret he had no right to keep?

 _Of course they left you._

This was all Roger's fault. All of it! The Avengers falling apart. Rhodey's legs. Ross's insistence on making his life hell. His nightmares of one of his closest friends driving a shield through his heart!

 _Everyone does!_

With a roar of rage, Tony reared his arm back and chuckled the metal device as hard as he could at the nearest wall. The piece exploded on impact, sparks and wires flying everywhere as the shattered pieces fell to the floor.

The man heard his ragged breathing more than he felt it. He lifted a shaking hand towards his chest, rubbing at the faint scars his old reactor had left him. Slowly, the rage left his body like air from a balloon. His exhaustion and grief made him literally fall back into his chair out of his lack of energy. The man rested his arms on the table and placed his head on top of them as he let out a sigh. Fuck the nightmares. Let them come. His refrigerator was stocked and loaded for them anyways with those _cure-all_ bottles.

. . .

Tony had known it was a bad idea.

. . .

. . .

. . .

So why did it hurt so much to be proven right?

* * *

 **Tuesday - March 8, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Second Floor Kitchen**

 **07:45 p.m.**

Peter fought to keep his gaze locked on the bubbling pot in front of him. Dinner had to be ready in fifteen minutes. He didn't have any time for distractions.

The teen cast a small glance over towards his math textbook currently lying on the kitchen table, waves of gratitude rolling off him at the fact that they'd had time after Decathlon practice to finish up their homework that day.

God knew he wouldn't have time for it tonight.

"Jesus! How the hell did you let him damage you this badly?"

 _Focus, Peter..._ He muttered to himself.

"I didn't let him do anything! The little shit was stronger than we thought he was!"

The teen kept his gaze locked n the frothing pot as he shakily reached a hand towards the box of noodles on the side. He watched as the long thin strands pooled out of the box before disappearing beneath the water.

"We told you. We fucking told you, Tonya!" Max snarled from the doorway. "We needed those cases. Now we're going to have to send another squad out to retrieve them. But of course, now we're going to have to wait until this dies down because you fuck-ups managed to almost get caught!" The man roared out in fury.

Despite his better judgement, Peter hesitantly glanced upwards at the counter where Curt was currently sitting. The man was unscrewing one of the plates on Tonya's arm as the woman glared elsewhere. Farther into the room, Max stood off against Rocky and Steel.

Peter had never bothered to learn their actual names. They never stuck around long enough.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who the hell do you think you are, huh?" Steel snarled as he stepped closer. Now that his skin wasn't metallic anymore, the man looked much less intimidating. That, however, didn't stop him from getting defensive.

"We didn't sign up for fighting superheroes, alright? You said it would just be a simple mission!" He countered.

Max glared down at him. "That's because it was a simple mission." He snarled. "I just shouldn't be surprised you three somehow found a way to mess it up!"

"Hey!" Steel barked. "We're the ones that were out there risking our necks. We're the ones who had to face off against that little freak. We're the ones that-"

"Failed. You're the ones that failed."

All heads - even Peter's - turned to watch as Richard emerged from the elevator. Peter was the only one to quickly turn away as he concentrated on stirring the pot.

 _Head down. Mouth shut. Head down. Mouth shut._

The man stalked into the room with a disgusted expression as he stopped next to Max. "We gave you one simple job. And you couldn't even do that."

Rocky and Steel exchanged glances before the latter stepped forward, getting right into Richard's face.

 _That's a mistake._ Peter murmured to himself as he watched the noodles spin in the pot.

"Alright. Listen here, you stuck-up, rich boy. I don't need this. None of us do. We were perfectly fine without you and your little…" He paused to glance down at his hands, watching as they turned to steel before flickering back to normal. "...upgrades. And we'll be fine without you! In fact, I'd say you need to watch what you're saying and how you're saying it. Hate for someone out there to grow wise and get a little suspicious of you"

Richard leveled him a cold stare. "And just what are you saying exactly?"

Steel smirked at him. "I'm saying I think you should treat me with a little more respect. The things I know about you...about this place. Well…" He paused and glanced down at his fingernails before smirking. "...I'd hate for somebody to...hear something."

Richard stared at the man for a moment longer before he let a small smirk fall onto his face as well. "Yes. I suppose you're right."

Faster than anyone could react, Richard whisked a gun out from behind his back and fired two shots at the man's chest. Steel barely had any time to gape in shock before another bullet was fired right in between his eyes.

Peter jerked at the noise, biting the inside of his cheek as he screamed at himself to keep his gaze locked on the pot before him.

Tonya's stared with wide eyes as the man fell to the ground with a thud, only to whisk back around as she felt a strong hand - one that hadn't been that strong a second ago - latch onto her already damaged wrist.

Whisking back around, she noticed a large scaly green hand was now wrapped around her arm, long black claws digging into the circuits. LIfting her head, she met Curt's now black eyes as the man grinned at her. "I think you might wanna sit down, honey." He said sweetly. "Cause you're not getting out of this now."

Richard glanced down at the body at his feet in disdain before glancing back up to Rocky, who was now being held against the wall my Max. "Now...do you share in your friend's sentiment?" the man asked as he leisurely twirled the gun back and forth.

Rocky was quick to shake his head back and forth.

Richard gave a smile. "Good. Now go join the others downstairs and I don't want to hear a word about this anymore. Do you understand me?" He asked darkly as Max lifted his free hand toward the captive man's face.

Rocky watched with wide eyes as Max's fingers sparked with electricity, dancing dangerously close to his eyes. "I...I-I understand...s-sir."

Max released his hold on him and the man floundered towards the elevator.

Curt's hand slowly transformed back as he stood up, Tonya doing the same as she watched the man cautiously. "Come on. I'm going to have to fix this down in the lab." He muttered, gesturing toward the woman's crushed arms.

She obeyed without complaint. They all did eventually.

Richard gazed down at the body for a moment longer before he glanced over at Max. "Deal with this, will you?"

The man nodded his head as Richard walked back over toward the elevator.

The dark-skinned man glanced down at the mess by his feet before letting out an annoyed huff. "Peter, get over here!"

The teen felt his grip on the spoon tighten for a moment before he released it, slowly and hesitantly walking over towards Max. He was careful to keep his eyes away from the steadily growing pool of blood.

The man gripped the back of Peter's neck. "Clean this up." He growled out before shoving the boy closer towards the mess. The teen caught a glimpse of the crimson pool and thrust his head away. He could feel his stomach churning. "B-but I have to...have t...d-dinner and-"

He gasped as Max lifted him up by the front of his shirt. The hold jostled Peter's still sore ribs as the teen floundered in the man's grasp. "Did you just talk back to me?"

The teen clenched his eyes shut as he turned away. "N...no sir." He sputtered out. A shocked gasp fell from his lips as Max tossed him to the ground, the teen landing on his side in the pool of blood, warm liquid splattering up against his cheek. "I don't want to see a single speck of blood on this floor when I get back." Max snarled darkly as he grabbed one of Steel's legs, dragging him over towards the elevator. A thick smear of blood followed after him, but Peter wasn't even paying attention anymore. His gaze was locked on his shaking, blood-covered hands.

"Oh...and you have ten minutes till dinner." Max called back with a sadistic smirk adorning his face. "Make sure that's ready." The elevator doors closed around him, leaving Peter alone in the room.

The teen stared down at his red hands before his resolve shattered as he struggled to smear the blood off of his hands, terrified sobs escaping his lips as he haphazardly wiped the blood off of his cheek with the back of his sleeve, panicked tears rolling down his face as the red liquid refused to come off of his fingers.

Peter didn't even notice when the pot of noodles boiled over.

* * *

 **INFINITY WAR CAN GO SUCK MY NADS!**

 **I have never cried in a movie theater before, but this movie left me SOBBING! BOTH TIMES! I saw it on Friday AND Saturday. Okay, not even joking you, this is one of the best Marvel movies I have _ever_ seen! I mean...it's just...and the... you know what? Just go see it for yourself. Words cannot even BEGIN to describe it.**

 **Anywho...back to the actual story.**

 **I'm sure you're all very, VERY confused as to what is happening and that's perfect! That means everything's going according to plan. But not to fret, my little duckies. For I can assure you that things will clear up more and more as the story progress. I just wanted to leave you with a little hint. The next chapter should give you a little more info so just be patient.**

 **I'm also sorry that this chapter didn't go up last night, but considering I wasn't even home on Friday and Saturday to write, I'd say I'm a little proud of myself for writing 10,000+ words in one night. I'm not as happy as I could be with this chapter, but I've already rewritten it a few times now and this is how it's going to be so BLAH!**

 **Once again, the angst stick is coming to bludgeon you all to death! But I promise we'll start to get more light-hearted soon. Even I can only take so much beating from the angst stick.**

 **Thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: _Aunknowntimelord, Athene Aakura Parthenos, ravenclawdaidem16, The Procrastination Team, Woah fanfiction, maarryy, BlackRose121, Darkstrange237, Heroes21, Kittibrick, Sarabeth 2592, Sirfan, SoranoxSora, Story Randomness, blank435, julcourt818, totallynotachicken, hpenchantress, lunamoonssister, gottaLoveMyFandoms9731, Melei, Jenny wrens, Luna567489, NikaDex, Agoge, Silent Dolphin, Melancholoy Sunshine, lil cometz, stephanD, katiekatz27, LiluAin, NitaIce, born2bblonde, NightVSlash985, Kamrita, Ollo21, s2rocks, Lightning2000, Ayumu Narumi, LunarMn, RosettaQueen20, .e, momotsai027, Bella Redi, Starrynyte04; Megz16, Luna567489, dreadlord9, , xXrebelgirl07Xx, creativ22, gugi18, Argent-Jinx, delaneyr, yuri324_**

 **Reviews:**

 **EmilyF.6: Gracias, chica! I'm really excited to continue this story I literally can't stop planning it.**

 **Ammy of Asgards: What, you kidding? 1:30 in the morning is the BEST time to be awake! All the best ideas come to you then! It's even better when you have an exam early in the morning so you have THAT to look forward to *pained laugh***

 **Ravenclawdiadem16: I know. I'm pretty sure all of my stories have at least a _little_ bit of angst in them. It's just so interseting to see how your favorite characters deal with tough situations, especially emotional onces. **

**guacamole lover: *evil laugh* what can I say? Aww, thank you so much! I love to hear that my stories help people get through tough times. That makes me feel so wonderful. Yeah, I know. Our poor little baboo is going to wanna strap down for this story.**

 **Agent blue rose: PREACH!**

 **EmPro8: I'm glad too! Yeah, you should expect at least two weeks in between every chapter if I'm able to stick to my schedule *cough, cough - she won't- cough, cough***

 **Ninadragon: Thank you! Yeah, Tony's going to have some work cut out for him in this story so I hope you're all excited for that.**

 **Phoenixhp5: Yes, our poor, poor baboo. You'll be quick to understand more about the Cons and his father in the upcoming chapter.**

 **NinaDex: Gracias, chica! I always strive to make my stories stand out in some fashion and I love creating something people can actually take the time to read throughout a long period of time and not just a one-shot that tapers off.**

 **LiLuAin:** **Stary, to jest niesamowite! Muszę powiedzieć, że jestem tak szczęśliwy, że to twoja ulubiona historia. To sprawia, że czuję się tak dobrze! I właśnie dlatego, że nie chcę, żebyś musiał to przetłumaczyć (btw, to świetnie, że poświęcasz trochę czasu, żeby to przeczytać, żeby przeczytać moją historię). Przekonam to do Polski. Mam nadzieję, że wszystko jest w porządku.**

 **Ammy of Asgard: Yeah, that sounds like a bitch. Welp, fear not! This time, the update is for real!**

 **RosettaQueen20: Well welcome to the family, kid! Hope you're ready to devote your every waking, living, breathing second to this fandom XD  
seriously? This is your favorite? I'm so happy to hear that!**

 **Argent-Jinx: Don't even TALK about Infinity War. My heart CANNOT take it! I literally sobbed at the end.**


	6. Rule 9

**Chapter 6: Rule 9**

* * *

9) _I Will_ _Never Ask For Help_

* * *

 _Peter winced and let out a pained whimper as the sound of shouting from downstairs grew louder and louder. He threw his hands over his ears and pressed himself into the corner of his room, tears leaking from his eyes._

 _Mommy and Daddy were fighting._

 _Again._

 _He didn't like it when they fought. Daddy got mad and Mommy got all sad. They were loud too. That was scary._

 _The four-year-old tried to ignore it as he rocked back and forth on the floor. Cracking open his eyes, he could just make out the light brown fur of his teddy bear peeking out from underneath his bed. Reaching out a small, shaky hand, the toddler grasped onto the matted fur of the stuffed animal and pressed it close to his chest. His fingers brushed up against one of the many different stitches along the toy's lining from where his Mommy had had to fix him up._

 _His Mommy could make anything better._

 _Another shout rose up from the floor, causing a panicked wince to sound from the boy as he curled up even tighter, scrunching his eyes closed as he buried his face in his bear._

 _Eventually, the shouting died down before trickling off into nothing. Peter, however, didn't look up. He simply continued to rock himself back and forth. He didn't even move when the door to his room slowly let out a familiar SQUEAK, the tell-tale sign of a new presence in his room._

 _It wasn't until he felt someone gently wrap their arms around him that he finally opened his eyes. Mary gingerly rearranged the child until he was now sitting in her lap, his head resting against her chest as she gently swayed him back and forth. Peter made no sound as he curled his fingers into his mother's shirt._

 _"Fighting?"_

 _"No. No more fighting." She whispered softly in response to her son's question._

 _Peter blinked up at her, fresh tears still coating his eyelashes. "Is Daddy mad again?" He whimpered._

 _Mary stared down at the child in her lap, taking in his quivering lip and shaking hands before letting a small smile form on her face. She gently cupped her's son's cheeks in her hands. "No. He's not mad anymore. Mommy and Daddy were just talking about some grown-up things." She explained with a smile. Peter, however - despite his young age - was not as oblivious as his mother thought he was, for he still caught the way she hastily wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve._

 _Mommy was sad again._

 _Peter felt more tears welling up in his eyes as he buried his face back into his mother's shirt. He didn't like this. Mommy and Daddy were always fighting now. He was always mad. She was always sad. He didn't understand._

 _The four-year-old peeked out at the room, his eyes catching sight of the bookshelf lined up next to his bed. On the bottom shelf (the only one he could reach) there were numerous picture books, each with colorful illustrations and happy characters._

 _Why weren't things like his stories? Why wasn't there some big strong hero to beat back the bad guy? Was there a bad guy?_

 _There had to be. He just needed a hero to beat up the monster making his Daddy mad and his Mommy sad. He knew they were out there. His stories were full of heroes. One of them had to be coming soon, right?_

 _"I don't like this, Mommy." He cried, clutching her shirt tightly. "I want things to be happy again! I don't like the monsters." He sniffed. "They scare me, Mommy. Promise you'll make them go away!" He pleaded. "Promise you'll make it better."_

 _Mary blinked down at her son, unseen tears welling in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around the child. She wanted to. She wanted to promise all of that so BADLY! But deep down...she knew she never could. She could never give her son the guarantee that things were going to work out. Cause from where they were now, she honestly didn't know if they would._

 _But she wasn't about to tell him_ that _, now was she?_

 _Gently pulling the crying boy away from her, she wiped away his tears with her thumbs as she held his face. "Peter, listen to me, sweetie. I wish I could promise you all of that. But I don't think I can. I don't think anybody can." She sighed, staring down at her son, at those large brown eyes of his._

 _"I can't promise you sunshine in the morning. I can't promise you no monsters will ever come. I can't promise you a happy ending. I can't promise you a fairytale." She murmured. "I can't promise you anything. Except myself."_

 _Peter's watery eyes continued to stare up at her._

 _"No matter what - be it monsters or knights in shining armor, war or peace, rain or shine - I will always be here, and you and I will always be a team." She said firmly, a gentle smile forming as she rested a kiss on Peter's forehead, the child letting out a small giggle at the action._

 _Lifting up her hand, Mary extended out her pinky. Peter stared at the outstretched finger in confusion before looking back up at his mother._ _"In fact, just so you know there's no backing out of this..." The woman winked at him as she lowered her hand, looping her pinky around his much smaller one. "...let's make a promise."_

 _Peter beamed, something Mary had counted on. For some reason, her son loved it when she promised him something. She often wondered whether or not it had anything to do with the notion that it meant she'd always have to be around to fulfill it._

 _She stared her son in the eyes for a moment as she struggled to come up with something the toddler would easily remember before chuckling. "Alright, now I want you to always remember this, alright?"_

 _"Mm-hmm!"_

 _She gave a small nod of her head._

 _"No matter what,  
No matter where,  
_ _Make it count and make it care."_

 _"Hehe...that rhymes!"_

 _"Does it? I had no idea! Guess you're going to be a smart one, baby."_

 _"You're silly, Mommy..."_

* * *

 **Friday - March 11, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Sub-Level Labs**

 **05:26 a.m.**

Peter grunted as he was forcefully slammed into the wall, head hitting the hard surface painfully before he fell down to the ground with a thud.

He clenched his fists and let out an irritated sigh. Lifting his head back up, the teen narrowed his eyes and watched as the Lizard swished his long tail back and forth. His tongue flickered out of his mouth before disappearing once again, dark black eyes blinking down at him as he lunged.

Muscles coiling, Peter rolled to the side and leapt back up to his feet as the monster collided with the wall. Rushing forward, Peter pulled himself up onto the creature's back before slamming his elbow hard down on the reptile's head.

The monster roared out in pain before Peter felt a heavy tail slam into his side, sending him flying back down to the floor. Before he could raise himself back up, however, he felt a large force slam down on his chest as the Lizard crouched over him.

The teen screamed out in pain as he felt long claws dig into his shoulder and chest, kicking out blindly with his back leg. The hit was enough to knock the Lizard off balance, which allowed the teen to ram a fist in the monster's face, sending him flying backward.

Taking a second to catch his breath, Peter placed a tentative hand on his chest, wincing as he felt warm liquid come off of his fingers. He groaned in frustration. _Can we wrap this up? I have a test to study for!_

Sliding his feet back into a defensive position, Peter clenched his fists as the reptile let out a loud hiss, crouching down on the floor as it readied to pounce once again. Peter would have _killed_ for some weapon - _any_ weapon. But of _course_ , they just _had_ to be testing out his raw reflexes today.

 _Yeah, right. More like they just wanna see me get tossed around like a punching bag._ He growled bitterly before refocusing.

The Lizard shot forward, snapping his teeth loudly. Peter reared back and send a kick towards the monster, his foot slamming into the creature's head. The Lizard staggered back at the blow before countering with one of his own, slashing a claw towards the teen. Peter ducked underneath the attack before sliding across the floor in between the reptile's legs.

Jumping back up to his feet, Peter curled his hands around the monster's tail and pulled back. The monster hissed as it lost its grip on the floor, falling to his stomach as Peter used all of his strength to hurl him clear across the room.

The reptile slammed painfully against the training room walls, the white surface rippling as it absorbed the shock of the impact. Peter let out a strangled breath as he placed his hands on his knees, fighting to drag in a breath as he huffed. Peter didn't know how long they'd been going at it, but he knew he was running out of steam.

He could only hope his father was feeling merciful today and would call it soon.

The teen stole a glance back at the one-way mirror on the wall before turning forward once again. _Doubt it._

Before he could take in another breath, the Lizard reared back up once again, a loud roar tearing its way through his throat. Peter flipped out of the way as a large claw slammed down into the ground where he'd once been standing. However, as his feet came to land on the floor once more, the creature's long tail whipped through the air, hitting him in the side once again.

The force sent him flying into the side wall for around the sixteenth time in the past ten minutes. If he were being honest, it was really starting to get old. The boy struggled to rise up to his once again, only for a large scaly claw to wrap around his throat, hoisting him up into the air before slamming him into the wall.

The teen lifted his hands as he fought to pry the claw from his neck while he tried to land a solid kick, only for the reptile to squeeze harder. A strangled gasp filtered out of Peter's mouth as he struggled to drag in another breath of air.

The Lizard let out a loud hiss as he raised his other hand, poised to strike his claws down.

 _"Enough."_

Both heads swiveled towards the back wall as a large door slowly materialized from the white surface. Richard calmly stepped into the room, Max standing next to him with a clipboard and a stopwatch in his hands.

"23 minutes, 17 seconds." The dark-skinned man reported before writing something down on the clipboard. "8.5 times longer than the control group." He murmured.

Richard gave a nod that was something akin to approval as the Lizard haphazardly dropped the teen in his grasp. Peter collapsed onto the ground as he wrapped a hand around his throat and coughed harshly. Through the pained tears in his eyes, Peter could just make out the Lizard stepping back slightly as his green skin and long tail slowly disappeared into the usual pale complexion of Curt Conners. The man sneered down at the boy by his feet before going over to stand by the other two.

Peter could hear the three men conversing quietly with each other, but he wasn't really paying attention anymore. Instead, the teen was just focusing on taking in deep, steady breaths as he struggled to get his heart back under control. His muscles screamed at him in protest as his body shifted.

The teen stole a small glance up to stare around the training room. _At least they didn't use the lasers today..._

The ten was startled from his thoughts as he was roughly hauled to his feet. "Let's go." Richard muttered as he tossed him towards the door. Peter steadied himself before he could faceplant on the floor, hastily walking out the door before they could change their minds and decide to go another round.

Stepping out of the room, Peter couldn't help the queasy feeling that built up in his gut as his eyes scanned over the large room he'd grown to hate with all his might.

It wasn't even a room at all. In fact, once upon a time, it'd been an active subway station. However, it had long since been abandoned. But of course, his father had found a way to repurpose it. Now, the station was full of high-tech machinery and sleek metallic fixtures. Weapons of all sizes and assortments lined the walls. Cages filled with howling, roaring animals were set against the back while strangers he'd grown used to seeing walked past him, each with faces of distrust and malice.

He hated this lab.

The teen must have hesitated slightly, for he felt something jab him in the back. "Keep moving." Max hissed as he shoved him forward. The group made their way over towards one of the more secluded areas of the lab. Around them, different machines and monitors sat around a metal, blood-stained chair.

He hated that chair.

Another sharp shove had him sitting on the metal surface, his fingers curling around the seat as his shoulders shook with tension. His face, however, showed no sign of his stress as he fought to remain calm.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Richard moved towards one of the nearby metal tables. The man turned his back as he began to meddle with something in his hands. But Peter didn't need to see to figure out what it was. He'd done this plenty of times in the past.

He hated all of it.

As per the usual routine, Curt roughly grabbed his arm and began to clean off some of the skin with a sterilized cotton ball as Richard moved closer, a large syringe clenched between his fingers. Peter took a steadying breath as his father lowered the syringe.

He let out a small hiss of pain as the needle pierced his skin, digging down into his veins. He watched with glazed eyes as the syringe slowly began to fill with the familiar crimson liquid. Pulling the needle back out, Peter winced and rubbed at the blood now dotting his arm.

The teen let out a small sigh as the men moved away from him once again, moving back over towards the table to discuss the results of the tests they'd run that day during training. Peter pulled his legs up so that his feet were resting on the seat of the chair, his arms curling around his legs as he rested his cheek on his knees.

They'd been doing this little charade for around ten years now, and Peter could honestly say he was getting just a little tired of it. The harsh training, the painful experiments, the screaming and slapping.

Not really the best environment to stimulate healthy adolescent growth.

His father, however, didn't seem to grasp that concept, at least...not anymore. There were days where Peter wondered if he ever had.

Richard had begun the tests years ago, but they still hadn't stopped. If anything they'd only escalated to extreme heights. Peter continued to ask himself why it had all started in the first place, but he knew it was unlikely he'd ever get the answer. He couldn't exactly just walk up and ask his dad.

He knew. He'd tried once.

That was how he ended up with his first broken arm.

No, all Peter knew was that even as a child, Richard had been using him. He still remembered the _"games"_ they used to play, the funny-looking water in those beakers, in those syringes. _"They'll make you better."_ He'd used to say.

Peter hated those games.

Though he supposed he had to at least give the man a little credit. After all, without those tests, he never would have gotten his powers. Though of course...things only got worse once his father discovered his advancements so…

There were ups and downs he supposed.

One extreme down was the Cons. Just a little bit of independent research had told Peter everything he'd needed to know on them. They were bad news. Of course, he would have been able to gather that just from his first interaction with them.

Hello, broken jaw and dislocated shoulder.

If one good thing came out of the Cons appearing, it was that the tests began to delve away from him and started to focus more on them. Once again, Peter never asked any questions. He was finally beginning to learn about the rules.

After their . . . advancements had been made, Richard continued to work with them. After a while, his focus abandoned Peter altogether and turned solely to the enhanced individuals he'd been able to create.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Peter had continued to hold onto the hope that maybe, one day, the man would turn back to normal. He would stop the tests and experiments and crazy ideas and finally become….well, a father.

Then the Avengers came along.

If Peter had thought the man was bad before, then what came next was a literal nightmare.

Training, testing, experiments, successes, failures, repeat, repeat, _repeat._

At the time, the teen still had no clue what Richard was hoping to achieve. All he did know was that if he didn't learn how to stay quiet, out of the way and obedient, he wouldn't last long. Most of the new people already didn't last long.

"Hey."

Peter jolted out of his thoughts as Max glared down at him expectantly. "Umm…" He murmured, unsure of what had just been asked of him.

"You're arm, boy!"

Quickly sticking out the limb, Max harshly grasped it before reaching towards the side, pulling a small rolling table over towards them. He slammed the limb down on the surface of the table, ignoring the wince of pain that hissed out of Peter's lips. The table surface was tiny, only around the size of a large textbook. But on the sides, there were multiple thick leather straps attached to the steel surface.

Wrapping his fingers against the leather, Max pulled them over Peter's arm before firmly strapping the limb down with one strap going over the bend in his arm while the other wrapped around his wrist, leaving the underside of his forearm completely exposed.

It wasn't until two years ago that Peter had finally begun to understand.

Peter tried not to the look at the old, long, ugly scar that ran up the skin. He tried not to watch as Richard and Curt made their way over, surgical gloves how adorning their hands. He tried not to shake as Richard slowly inspected one of the scalpels sitting on the table beside them.

It wasn't until two years ago that his father had begun recruiting the others.

 _Head down, mouth shut, head down, mouth shut..._

It wasn't until two years ago that his father made his goals clear to him.

Quickly following procedure, Peter opened his mouth as Max shoved a thick rubber bar in between his teeth. They didn't like it when he made too much noise.

 _'We'll make them all better..."_

It wasn't until two years ago that Peter finally stopped sleeping through the night.

* * *

 **Friday - March 11, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Third Floor**

 **06:35 a.m.**

The cold water splashing against his face made a shiver shoot down his spine, the now wet strands of hair clinging to his face as he lifted his head to stare at himself in the mirror. The sight didn't shock him. It merely made a tired sigh flutter out of his mouth.

There were dark purple bags hanging underneath his eyes, which were red and bloodshot. His skin was pale and pasty, making the harsh red scars marring his face all the more prominent. His hair was messy and unkempt and the small cut on his bottom lip stung as he exhaled.

Running a hand across his wet face, Peter grabbed one of the last clean towels and wiped his face. His eyes drifted down to the mound of blood-soaked towels and wipes that littered the floor before he turned away, crouching down as he opened up the sink cabinet.

Pulling out a large roll of gauze, Peter stepped over the bloodied cloth and sat down on the closed toilet seat. He hissed in pain as he jostled his arm while resting it on his knee. He hesitantly scanned his eyes over the injury, which was still bleeding slightly. As usual, the scalpel had cut over the same scar line that had run along the arm before.

Even with his powers, Peter knew that scar would never heal. Not anymore.

He fought to keep his arm still, knowing that if the skin flaps jostled slightly and parted to reveal the muscle and bone underneath, he would just lose it. Gently, the teen placed the gauze packet in his mouth before pulling on the flap with his fingers, the packaging opening to release the soft, white material inside.

He winced as the gauze gently grazed the slash before he began to fiddle with the wrap near his feet. The teen took a steely breath before firmly pressing the end of the wrap on his arm. Biting back a scream, Peter began to tightly wrap the limb, careful not to cut off the blood flow as he finished off the wrap and pinned it to the cloth.

Letting out a ragged breath of relief, Peter slowly rose back up to his feet. Cautious in his movements and careful not to move his arm too much, the boy removed his blood-stained shirt and tossed it into the bloody pile in the corner.

He'd have to remember to do laundry tomorrow.

Wincing as he noticed the new scars and bruises littering his body courtesy of his training with Curt, the teen made his way over towards the medicine cabinet. He grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and released six pills into his hand. He knew it would barely make a dent in the pain, but it would at least be enough to take the edge off for a while. Quickly downing the caplets, the teen exited the bathroom before making his over towards his dresser.

Carefully dressing in his usual loose-fitting clothes and baggy jackets, the boy checked to make sure everything he needed was in his backpack before making his way over towards the door.

Even before he opened it, he knew the Cons were in a bad mood. Just by the way their angry voices carried up through the floors was indicator enough. Peter let out a tired groan as he pressed his back against his door.

 _I so cannot handle them today..._ He murmured to himself.

Training had been extra demanding that day. Not to mention the extra poking and prodding courtesy of his loving father. He did not need to add beatings from cranky Cons to the shit-list.

Biting his lip, the teen cast one more wary glance towards the door before narrowing his eyes. Walking back into the room, Peter grabbed his backpack as he walked past before making his way over towards the glass doors. Walking out onto the balcony, the teen cast one more glance behind him before activating his web-shooters, firing a web towards the neighboring building.

 _I'm so going to pay for this later._ He muttered to himself as he swung off the railing and propelled himself onto the roof of the next building. His arm shrieked in protest, but he was too relieved to care. He'd worry about the Cons and his father's wrath later.

For the time being, for the rarest of moments, he was free.

* * *

 **Friday - March 11, 2016**

 **Midtown School of Science and Tech - Cafeteria**

 **12:14 p.m.**

"Come _on,_ Peter! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

Peter let out a breathy laugh as he glanced over at Ned. "Dude, I already told you pretty much everything." He replied with a grin as he glanced back down at the book in his hands. "And maybe keep your voice down this time." He said in a noticeably quieter voice as he shot a glance over towards the other kids sitting at the table. Abe, Charles, and Sally, the other Decathlon members all sat a little ways away, talking and chattering amongst themselves. Even though Peter had grown to become friends with the group, it still didn't mean he wanted to blab his entire social life to them.

But it wasn't like they'd believe him anyway.

The sounds of loud laughter, noisy chewing and bellowing voices of the cafeteria did little to drown out Ned's excitement (and lack of guilt), nor did it hide the way Michelle abruptly shut her sketchbook.

Said girl raised a brow from her seat next to him. "You cannot have _possibly_ told us _everything,_ Peter." She muttered. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been trying to dodge our questions." She pointed an accusatory finger his way.

Ever since returning to school on Tuesday, both Ned and MJ had been hounding him on spilling the details of the internship. Well...more Ned than anything else, but even Peter could tell the reclusive girl was curious as well.

Her words held some truth. It wasn't that Peter didn't want to tell them about the internship. It's just that...Peter was having a hard time understand it himself at times. So how could he possibly explain it to his friends?

Still, that did little to deter them.

MJ turned away from her book and rested her elbow on the lunch table. "Like, okay...you still haven't told us about Stark yet."

Peter fiddled with the corner of the book page as he stared down at the words, which seemed to grow harder and harder to read as they continued to speak. "What about him?" He asked, still not looking up.

Ned didn't seem to notice the uncomfortable aura around his friend as he nearly began to bounce in his seat. "What's he like? Is he as cool as everyone thinks he is, or is he mean? I don't think he'd be mean, cause he's like...a superhero. Superheros can't be mean, right? Cause it's like-"

MJ slapped her hand over the boy's mouth with a roll of her eyes before glancing back over towards Peter. "Well..."

Peter let out a small sigh as he closed his book, knowing he wasn't going to be able to refocus back on it anytime soon. _Calm down, Parker. They're your friends. You can trust them. You can trust them. They're your friends. They won't tell anyone. They won't tell_ them. _You can trust them. Trust them._

He picked at the corner of the book in thought before giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "He's nice."

Michelle raised a brow at the teen's words, hand not leaving Ned's face as the boy continued to stare excitedly. "He's... _nice?_ " She repeated. "Him? Tony Stark? Infamous playboy jerkwad? The media's favorite puppet? _He's_ nice?"

Peter didn't know why that rubbed him the wrong way. "Didn't think you were one to judge someone by their cover."

MJ narrowed her eyes. "I'm one to judge someone by their pages. And his read like an issue of Playboy magazine." She muttered. "He's like the poster child of narcissistic rich white guys with way too much power and too little brains. Or in his case, modesty." She sniffed with a roll of her eyes, finally removing her hand from Ned's mouth.

Said boy gaped at her with wide eyes. "Seriously?" He breathed. "This is the same guy who literally saved the city from not just an alien invasion, but also flew a frikkin _nuke_ through a wormhole!" He huffed indignantly.

MJ seemed unphased. "He's also the same guy who supplied over a million weapons and guns to overseas forces just to bolster up his company name. Not to mention the fact that he's probably given a fair share of reporters ' _exclusive pieces_ ' on him." She smirked.

"Oh come on! That's-"

"He wasn't like that."

Both Ned and Michelle were disrupted from their argument at Peter's soft voice. The teen was fiddling with his forearm, eyes hard. "What?" MJ asked as she turned towards him. Peter let out a sigh before turning to face them. "He...he wasn't like that." He repeated. "Not with me."

The two friends glanced over at each other before turning back towards Peter as the teen continued. "You know, I don't really know what I was expecting when I agreed to this internship thing. I just thought I would be doing work around the Tower, and since Mr. Stark's always so busy, I didn't really think we'd even cross paths." He confessed.

"But on Monday...I...it was... _different._ He showed me around, talked to me. And...and I actually...talked _back."_ He breathed.

Ned blinked in shock at that, knowing just how submissive and silent Peter had been brought up to be. "I didn't know why...I still don't actually. It's just that..." He trailed off and gave a small shake of his head. "I don't know, it felt . . . . _easy._ Talking to him, I mean." Peter glanced down at his hands and gave a small smile. "He didn't seem to mind it, either. So I...kept going."

The teen shrugged his shoulders. "I guess there's your answer. He didn't seem to mind... _me_. So, yeah. He's nice...at least _I_ think he is."

Ned and Michelle sat in silence for a moment as they took in the teen's words. Finally, MJ lowered her gaze as she glanced down at her sketchbook. "If you say so, Loser." She murmured, though both boys knew she held no malice behind the tease.

Peter rolled his eyes with a small smile as Ned turned back towards him. "Well if all that's true, then it must be even _better_ getting to work with someone like Tony Stark." He practically gushed, eyes twinkling in excitement. Peter opened his mouth to reply, only for a snarky voice to cut through the air.

"You're _still_ on about that bullshit?"

All three teens gave a collective sigh as Flash and a few of his friends walked over, a smug smirk plastered onto his face. Peter merely gave him a bored expression. "What do you want, Flash?" He sighed as he fiddled with the fork in his hand, his other coming to rest on his forearm. Why was it hurting so much all of a sudden?

The boy showed a cocky grin. "I wanna know why you're so adamant about trying to convince people of this blatant lie. It's so... how do I put this...? Pathetic. Even for you, Penis Parker." He quipped, his friends snickering behind him.

Peter merely rolled his eyes at the comment, but Ned seemed to get annoyed for the both of them as he narrowed his eyes. "It's not a lie, Flash. He really _does_ have an internship at Stark Industries." He growled out. As Peter expected, however, the boy merely scoffed. "Oh god, Lees! You are _so_ naive! You honestly expect me to believe that someone like Parker could get something like that? _Nobody_ can get an internship with Stark Industries." He sneered.

 _"Nobody_ or just you, Flash? Cause honestly, those are two very different circumstances." MJ muttered, not even bothering to look up from her book.

Flash threw a glare her way as he clenched his fists. In his silence, Peter noticed the slight reddish tint that blushed Flash's cheeks, something he was sure nobody else picked up on.

The bully turned to gaze over at the other Decathlon members. "Come on, you guys. You can't tell me you actually believe Parker's all buddy-buddy with Tony _fucking'_ Stark." He scoffed. "I mean, _seriously?_ "

 _"You're a waste of space."_

Peter felt his hands twitch as he continued to fiddle with the fork. He didn't look up. His arm hurt.

The teens seemed reluctant to join in on the conversation. Whether it was because they just were comfortable with it or because of Flash's routine annoyance - most assumed the latter - they didn't say. Nor did they stay silent. Sally rubbed the back of her neck as she fiddled with her fork. "Umm...I...I guess it is a _little_ shocking." She mumbled.

"But Peter's not one to lie." Abe said quickly, shooting a glance over towards the other three teens as he chose his words carefully while keeping a watchful eye on Michelle. One look was the only warning you got before she'd maul you, and the dark-skinned boy was treading on thin ice. "So...so I don't really have any reason _not_ to believe him."

Charles averted his gaze. "Y-yeah. What...what they said." He uttered.

They were lying.

 _"You aren't worth shit."_

He pressed the sharp tips of the utensil against his fingers. He didn't look up. His arm burned.

However, Flash didn't seem to take their rejection of his idea too hard as the boy was quick to throw an arm around Peter's shoulders.

The teen instantly flinched at the touch as a growing uncomfortable shiver ran down his spine, the same feeling that overcame him whenever _anyone_ even attempted to touch him.

"So you planning on keeping this up for long, cause we were thinking of starting up a bet to see how long it'll take until you admit this is all fake, and I got to say I have a lot of money riding on your delusions, Parker." He snorted, with an added jeer from the group behind him.

Ned clenched his fists. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that Peter's not making this up?!"

"Uhh...cause Tony Stark's _Tony Stark_ and Penis Parker's . . ." He paused before another triumphant smirk fell onto his face. "Well, I think the name says it all."

 _"Nothing but a science experiment we like to keep around to play with."_

He could feel the fork beginning to give in his hand as his grip tightened. He didn't look up. His arm was on fire.

Michelle stole a small glance up. "No, it's because that would mean accepting the fact that Peter's better than him at something, and we all know Flash can't have that." She muttered sarcastically as she rested a cheek on her fist. "Honestly, Flash. Can we not do this right now? I'd really rather not have to deal with you until I need to shoot down your wrong answers at Decathlon practice."

Alright, there were a few well-placed snickers at _that._

Flash, however, paid no mind to them as he leaned closer, "accidentally" tipping over his juice box, the contents dribbling out onto Peter's shoulder. The teen jumped slightly at the wet feeling, only for Flash to move closer. "Might as well drop the act, Penis." He scoffed. "Cause there's no way in hell someone like Stark would ever waste his time on a nobody like you."

 _"You will always be nothing."_

 _SNAP!_

Peter shot up from his seat faster than anyone was expecting, including Flash as the broken fork pieces clattered against the table. The teen whipped around to stare the bully straight in the eyes, something that startled Flash, Ned, and even Peter himself. Peter _never_ looked people in the eyes. However, the intensity of the stare alone was enough to make everyone go quiet, and by everyone...it meant _everyone._ Nobody in the entire cafeteria made a single sound as they all turned to watch the spectacle.

For a moment, everyone held their breaths as they waited for Parker to make a move, to come back with a retort, to do... _something._ But all he did was reach down, grab his backpack, and shrug his jacket off of his shoulders. "Have a nice day, Flash." He said softly before turning and walking out of the cafeteria without another word.

Not one person noticed the small speckles of blood staining the teen's sleeve as he left.

Nobody said anything for a moment before the soft hum of chatter returned to the once silent cafeteria. Flash stood still for a second longer before blinking back into reality, a cocky laugh bubbling out of his throat as he turned back towards his friends, the group slowly walking off. "What a freak." Someone muttered, to which the group wholeheartedly agreed.

Ned and Michelle glanced at each other before turning their concerned looks towards the door.

* * *

 **Friday - March 11, 2016**

 **Building 2 - First Floor Boys Bathroom**

 **12:17 p.m.**

Peter slammed the stall door shut so forcefully, he was lucky he didn't rip it off its hinges. The boy fought to steady his hands as he hastily rolled up his sleeve. But the horrid burning sensation that was currently shooting through the limb was making it just a _little_ hard to concentrate.

The teen blanched as he noticed the bandage wrapped around his arm was nearly soaked with blood, the crimson color contrasting the pale white of his skin...skin that wasn't _usually_ that...pale. The teen's eyes, however, remained on his arm as his shaking fingers unsteadily undid the wrap and exposed his forearm.

It was still there.

Why was it still there?

" _23 minutes, 17 seconds."_

The wound was still open and bloody, almost as if it'd just happened moments ago. Usually, by now, his powers would have kicked in and the wound would have at least stopped bleeding. At most, it would have already scarred. But not this time. This time, it was acting...normal.

Only he wasn't normal.

So this wasn't, _either._

 _"8.5 times longer than the control group."_

Peter could feel his chest constricting as he fought to remain calm and dropped his backpack onto the floor. Hastily unzipping it, the teen reached in and yanked out another roll of bandages as well as some wipes. The teen hissed in pain as he ran the wipe over the incision.

" _I'd hate for someone to...hear something."_

Peter felt a whimper bubble out of his mouth as he watched the blood quickly spill out over the cut once more. His hands began to shake violently as he continued to wipe at the blood, only for more to take its place each time, bubbling out of the incision like magma spilling from cracks in the ground.

" _Yes...I suppose you're right."_

As the wipe slowly became saturated with the dark liquid, Peter noticed the crimson pearls soaking onto the tips of his fingers, staining them red.

 _BANG!_

His shaking hands accidentally hit against the cut, making the teen cry out sharply before he bit his tongue to silence himself, shutting his eyes tightly He could taste blood in his mouth, but he didn't care. He needed to keep quiet. _They didn't like it when he made too much noise._

Throwing the red-soaked wipe to the floor, the boy hastily grabbed another and continued to try to clean the cut, only to freeze as he caught sight of the skin _around_ the incision.

Peter felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw the harsh dark veins snaking underneath his papery-white skin, the burning sensation returning full force as the veins seemed to glow ever so slightly. _Oh god. Oh god, what did they do?!_ He screamed at himself as he began to scratch at the skin, fearful whines filling the stall.

In his panic, the teen didn't even register as his nails raked across the incision, ripping at the skin and tearing at the limb as he fought to stop the burning. _God!_ It hurt so much!

 _"You're arm, boy!"_

Panicked whimpers escaped his throat as the teen continued to tear at the limb, fighting to push and scratch and _stop! Why wouldn't it stop! Make it stop!_ It felt like millions of white-hot needles were piercing his skin, digging underneath muscle and bone to puncture the veins, tearing and stretching them into nothing but shredded ribbons. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. If he could, he would have told himself that he was just making it worse. He would have told himself to be quiet. He would have told himself that this happened almost every time they tested a new serum.

But he couldn't. So he didn't.

Peter barely felt the tears streaming down his face, dripping down onto the floor below. All he could feel was the burning in his arm...and in his chest. Was he even breathing anymore? That would explain the burning. Despite the alarm bells ringing in his brain, Peter couldn't bring himself to care. All he cared about was the burning. And he had to make it _stop._

So the boy never noticed as he began to hyperventilate. He never noticed the pained gasps that forced their way out of his throat. He never felt his body curl in on itself as his back hit the stall door and he wrapped himself into a ball, rocking back and forth as he cradled the limb to his chest. All he knew was that the burning _wouldn't stop._

As he panicked, he noticed a growing _whine_ sounding in the back of his head. He could hear the dripping of the faucet outside the stall. He could feel the fabric of his sweater brushing up against his skin, coarse and uncomfortable. He could even smell the blood that was now staining his jacket. All of it bombarding his senses in an ovewhelming wave.

It wasn't long before the teen couldn't choke back a sob, resting his forehead on his knees as he hugged his arm close to his body, the overwhelming pain and irritation making him want to curl up and hurl as he cried, steady tears flowing down his cheeks, dripping onto the bloody mess that was his arm.

 _"We'll make you better."_

It wasn't until the end of lunch that the burning finally ceased, the veins disappeared, and the blood stopped flowing.

* * *

 **Friday - March 11, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Offices**

 **03:12 p.m.**

 _"I want them found and captured."_

"Yeah, well I want a coffee machine that doesn't cut me off after four cups but I don't see that happening anytime soon either, so..."

 _"You're saying you won't help?_ "

Tony couldn't help the annoyed sigh that bubbled past his lips as Ross' condescending voice filtered out of his earpiece and ingrained itself into his brain. The man felt a headache blossoming as he rubbed his eyes. "I'm saying this isn't my problem." He growled out.

 _"You signed those Accords, Stark-"_

 _"_ Uh-huh." The man cut him off. "So until the UN calls to tell me they're setting me up to track those convicts of yours, I don't see why I should care about this." He muttered. "It's not my job to clean up your messes."

There was a pause. _"Yes, well...I suppose I can't expect that of you considering you can't even clean up your own."_

Tony grit his teeth as he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell do you want, Ross?"

"Ahem..."

 _"I already told you what I want. I need those fugitives. Meaning I need information, and you're - sadly - my best bet."_ His angered voice cut through the line. Tony rolled his eyes as he sat back against the edge of his desk. "Hate to break it to you, Ross, but if that's what you're looking for, then you're not gonna get much from me."

" _Are you refusing to cooperate?"_

Tony scoffed. "You'd just _love_ that, wouldn't you? No, I'm saying I don't _know_ anything."

"Tony..."

It was Ross' turn to scoff. " _You honestly expect me to believe that in the four years you knew them, you didn't learn_ anything _about them? Where they might go? Who they might talk with?"_

"Tony...!"

The billionaire narrowed his eyes and folded his arms as he glared at nothing. "As shocking as this might be to you, I'm not necessarily the easiest person to get along with. So, no. No, I don't know where they are. I don't know where they're going. Because honestly... I don't know _them!"_ He snarled.

" _TONY!"_

" **WHAT?!"** The billionaire shouted, whirling around towards the doorway. He paused as he noticed Pepper standing with her arms folded, obviously the one who had been trying to get his attention, while a shuffling Peter Parker stood next to her. He was fiddling with his fingers again as he stared at the ground.

" _Stark? Stark! Are you hearing me ri-"_

The man quickly pressed the mute button on the earpiece as he took in the teen's bedraggled form. His hair was extra messy today and his face seemed sunken and pale, save for the dark bags hanging under his eyes. The teen stole a quick glance up before lowering it once again, rubbing his arm nervously. "Um...I..I-I can...g-go if you...uh..."

"No." Tony said much too quickly for his liking. "No, it's...it's fine, Peter. I'm just dealing with a douchebag to end all douchebags." He muttered with a roll of his eyes. Peter simply gave a small nod of his head as he continued to rub at his arm.

Tony's face scrunched in thought as he debated whether to end his call with Ross right then and there. After al, it wasn't like he particularly _enjoyed_ their little chats. But, like it or not, he was still the Secretary of State. There would always be consequences.

He glanced back over towards Peter. But what was he supposed to do with the kid in that time? Just send him on his merry way around the Tower. For some reason, sending an unsupervised kid to mill around a building that housed some of the most expensive tech in the _world_ left a bad taste in Tony's mouth. Like he'd said before. He trusted the kid, but not _that_ much.

His little dilemma was solved, however, as Pepper stepped forward. "Actually, do you think I could borrow Peter for a while. I have some work I need to do and there's a _mound_ of files on my desk I need to sort through." She explained, sending a knowing look Tony's way.

 _God, what did I do to earn this woman?_ "Uh...yeah. Yeah, that's fine." He said before glancing back down towards Peter. "Go ahead with Pepper for a while, kid. I'll come and get you when I'm done, 'kay?"

Peter said nothing as he gave another nod.

Pepper _tried_ to place a hand on the teen's shoulder, only to quickly retract it when she noticed the teen flinch away. She glanced back over towards Tony, mouthing a " _be quick"_ before leading the boy out of the room.

Tony watched them go for a moment longer before letting out a small sigh, lifting his hand back up to the earpiece.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm back. Oh, you heard that comment, huh? Well, that just makes me feel so warm inside."

* * *

 **Friday - March 11, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Offices**

 **03:58 p.m.**

"So how was school today?"

Pepper looked up from her computer when she received no response to the question. Peter was currently sitting at one of the smaller desks lined up against the side of her office, a large stack of yellow files piled next to him.

He was quick in his work, opening one file as he logged the information into the computer before turning to the next. He was fast and efficient, more so than Pepper would expect a teenage boy to be. Not once in the near hour they'd ben there had he said a word. He also made no indication that he'd even heard her.

"Peter?" She called again.

This time, however, his reaction was obvious. He started in his seat as the pages in his hand fell to the desk. He whipped his head around to give the woman a wide-eyed stare before quickly averting his gaze. "Umm..s-sorry. D-did you...need a-anything?" He murmured quietly.

Pepper stared at the teen for a moment before blinking back into reality, clearing her throat as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was just asking how school went today." She said in as soft a voice as possible.

Peter regarded her for a moment before giving a small nod. "It was fine." He said softly. "Nothing too eventful."

The woman tilted her head as the teen rubbed at his collarbone, something she'd seen him do more than once. _Well, he's not much of a talker._ She thought to herself. For a moment, Pepper simply took in the boy's appearance. The bags under his eyes were enough to tell her that he hadn't slept in a while, a fact that made her curious in itself. He also seemed to be favoring one arm over the other, something he did well in hiding.

 _Probably cause he's had some practice with that..._ The woman growled internally. Her mind wandered back to the conversation she'd had with Tony and Rhodey earlier that week. This boy was obviously troubled. Hell, one of the main reasons he was here was because of that. The stuttering and nervousness only did more to solidify that fact to the woman.

And yet, she couldn't help but linger on something Tony had said before. " _He's. . . he's a good kid."_

Lord knows Tony was never one to associate himself with children. But if the. . . _eccentric_ billionaire could see something like that in a child he'd only met a handful of times, then there _had_ to be something more to this kid. She just had to find it for herself.

Pepper looked up at the clock before turning back down towards her computer. Quickly making up her mind, the woman pushed her chair back and rose up from her seat. The action made Peter jump slightly, his muscles tensing as the woman walked over. "Come on, let's take a break." She called, holding her hand out.

Peter stared at her for a moment before glancing down at her hand. Pepper noticed the wariness his eyes held, as if he were judging whether or not it was a trick or not. The thought made Pepper's heart clench slightly. She leaned down, moving closer as she gave him a warm smile. "It's okay." She coaxed gently.

The teen hesitated for a moment longer before he slowly slid his hand into hers, allowing the woman to help him up before quickly tucking his arm close to his body once more. Pepper, however, took no offense to the action, simply happy the teen had accepted her offer.

She motioned for the boy to follow her as the pair made their way over towards the elevator. Neither of them said anything as Pepper led the teen into the cafeteria. Lunchtime had long since passed, something Pepper had been sure to check, seeing as the large room was now mostly empty. "Go sit down, alright, Peter? I'll be right back." She called as she motioned for the boy to take a seat at one of the nearby tables. Peter gave a small nod as she moved off.

The teen quietly sat down, bringing his hand to rub at his collarbone once again, the calming motions of his fingers rubbing against the skin seeming to soothe his jittering nerves as he shut his eyes.

A sudden noise in front of him had him jumping for what felt like the twentieth time in the last few minutes. Opening his eyes, he noticed there was now a salad, a bottle of water and a chocolate chip cookie in front of him. He blinking in surprise at the new meal before glancing back up towards Pepper, who was sitting down with an identical spread set up in front of her.

"I...I-I..." Peter stuttered, to which Pepper only smiled. "You looked like you hadn't eaten all day, sweetie."

The teen blushed as he lowered his gaze. "Y...y-you really d-didn't have to do that." He whispered softly. "I don't w-want you to...to worry abou-"

Pepper reached forward, gently placing a hand overtop Peter's. The teen tensed instantly but didn't pull away like before. "It's alright, Peter. I wanted to. It's my treat." She smiled before leaning back, picking up her fork before digging it into her salad. "Besides, you can pick up the next tab." She smirked, giving him a teasing wink.

Peter stared at her for a moment longer before he gave a small grin in return, turning down towards his own meal. Only then did the teen finally begin to realize just how hungry he really was. He hadn't really eaten anything since lunch the day before when Ned packed him an extra sandwich.

Pepper watched the boy wrap a tense hand around the rim of the plastic bowl as he warily shoved a bite into his mouth. The way his shoulders were hunched as well as the tense coiling of his muscles made Pepper wonder just how often the teen was offered any food.

The woman had been quick to notice just how small Peter seemed for his age. He was fourteen, yet he really only reached up to her shoulders. Not to mention the fact that he also looked like he might blow away if you just _looked_ at him a certain way. The baggy clothes and loose-fitting sweaters didn't do much to help either.

 _Hard to imagine there's a superhero hiding in you, sweetie._ She thought to herself. Though if she really thought about it, the teen most likely hid some impressive muscles underneath those baggy clothes, which led her to believe that was the reason behind them in the first place.

At least...she _hoped_ that's what he was covering with those clothes.

The thought made her tighten her grip on her fork.

Nevertheless, she hid her unease in her comforting smile as she glanced back over at Peter. "Well, I'm assuming I'm going to be seeing a lot of you around here. So I guess I should probably get to know you, huh?" She grinned.

Peter, however, didn't seem quite as enthusiastic as her as he stared at a piece of lettuce on his fork. "Why? I'm nothing special." He muttered softly, so softly that Pepper wondered whether or not she was meant to hear it.

Pepper Potts, however, was nothing if not persistent. She shook her hand dismissively. "I'm sure that's not true. You found yourself on Tony's radar, after all. I'd say that's an accomplishment in itself, Peter."

The teen glanced up at her for a moment before giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "I...I guess so..." He murmured.

"I know so." She continued. "I've known Tony for _years_ , Peter. And if there's one thing I know about him, it's that he's _never_ one to waste his time on things he thinks aren't worth it." She said with a smirk. "That and his caffeine addiction is through the roof."

Peter gave a small smile at that.

"And in all the time I've known him, he's never _once_ even considered the idea of hiring interns to work around here." She explained, Peter lifting his gaze to stare at her. "But here you are. Not only have you become the first intern to _ever_ work here, you've also managed to peak the interest of one of the most powerful people in the nation."

God she hoped Tony never got wind of this. His head was big enough as it was.

"So I'd say that counts for something." She said with a grin, Peter's large brown eyes boring into her. "Cause you're obviously worth something to him."

For a moment, Peter could only sit there in silence as he took in the woman's words. "Really?" the word came out before his brain could even process it. Pepper couldn't help but smile at the innocence of the question, resting her hand on Peter's once again. "Really." She repeated.

Peter stared back at her, at the calming smile on her face, at the warmth behind her eyes.

" _I can't promise you anything. Except myself."_

The ten let out a startled breath as he ripped his hand away, eyes wide in shock as he reared backward, quickly flying up to his feet as he grasped at his chest. Pepper started at the sudden jolt before quickly taking action, rushing around the table as she reached forward. "Peter? Sweetie, are you alright?" She asked, placing a hand on the teen's shuddering form.

" _ **Don't touch me!**_ " Peter roared, flinging himself backwards, away from her touch. The woman reared back in shock at the teen's sudden outburst, watching with pained eyes as he quickly did a double-take, face filling with regret. "I'm sorry!" He gasped, lifting his hands slightly. "I-I...I'm sorry. I...I d-didn't mean to...to-" He couldn't force the words out fast enough.

"Peter!" The woman called, wincing internally as the teen violently flinched, curling in on himself at the loud tone. Quickly righting herself, Pepper slowly and cautiously approached, showing her hands in peace. "It's alright, sweetie." She said as softly and gently as humanly possible. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean to, alright? I just startled you is all. It was my fault, alright. I'm sorry." She said calmly as she continued to step closer.

Peter eyes her warily as she approached, but didn't say anything against it, so Pepper continued. For a moment, the woman considered reaching out for him, but decided against it as she took in his tense posture and coiled muscles.

She understood now. She understood why the teen barely ever spoke, and when he did, it was like pulling teeth to get him to say anything more than a few words. She understood why he never really _looked_ at her. Why he seemed to curl in on himself, as if he were waiting for an attack that would never come. It was obvious now.

He was afraid of her.

The woman could only stare back at the shivering boy in sorrow, eyes filled with pity as she lowered her hands and let out a small sigh. _God, Tony. You really_ _weren't kidding._ The woman thought to herself as she slowly lowered herself back into her seat. Peter gazed at her for a moment before hesitantly doing the same.

The woman glanced down at the salad before her before quickly realizing she'd lost her appetite. Gazing back up at the teen, the woman noticed that the boy was silently pushing the last few pieces of lettuce around the plastic bowl with his fork, resting his cheek on a fist as he gazed solemnly at the remains.

Pepper bit her lip in thought as she fiddled with her fork, the two falling into a silence that neither knew how to break, if at all. The woman finally let out a deep breath as she reached across the table, slowly pushing the cookie towards the teen.

Peter blinked in slight surprise at the action before taking notice of the baked good. His eyes shifted towards the side in a moment of thought before he slowly reached forward to grab the pastry, lowering his gaze back down to the floor as he popped a small piece into his mouth.

Pepper gave a small nod in satisfaction, deciding that was probably all she would be able to get out of the teen that day.

"Thank you."

The woman lifted her head as the small voice reached her ears.

Peter was currently fiddlin with his fingers once again, eyes furrowed in concentration as he spoke. "Y...you didn't….didn't have to do t-this." He stuttered out softly. "But I...and umm…" He rubbed at the back of his neck as his face grew a slightly darker shade of pink. "I'm still not very good at this."

The woman gave a comforting smile.

"Just...thank you...for...for this. And for, you know...not freaking out on me." He mumbled, the pink quickly turning a deep shade of red.

Pepper stared at the boy in front of her as she soaked in his words. The genuine gratitude for such a small, trivial act as paying for a lunch made a small grin formed on her face. "It's true, you know." She finally uttered.

Peter glanced up at her in confusion.

"What I said before." She continued. "About Tony seeing something in you." She paused for a moment before continuing, giving the boy a gentle grin. "I get what he means now."

Peter blinked up at her with wide eyes, slowly opening his mouth to speak once more, only to squeak as a new voice filtered through the air loudly. "There you are!" The pair turned towards the entrance, watching as Tony walked over. "Did you really have to make me search all over the goddamn tower for you?" HE mumbled, throwing a small glare Pepper's way.

The woman didn't back down from the challenging stare as she folded her arms. "When you take an hour to finish your work, then I'd say _yes I do."_ She smirked back, Tony giving a roll of his eyes at the woman's comeback. "Whatever, I want my intern back." He pouted not unlike a five-year-old who'd just been scolded.

Peter couldn't help the amused grin that fell onto his face as he watched the pair exchange light glares before Tony finally gave, moving over towards the teen. "Come on, Peter. We know when we're not wanted." He grumbled overdramatically, Pepper letting out a scoff as Peter rose up from his seat.

Following Tony over towards the exit, the teen glanced over his shoulder, giving the woman a small wave.

Pepper couldn't stop the smile that formed on her face as she gave a wave of her own, watching as the teen disappeared.

* * *

 **Friday - March 11, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Private Lab 1**

 **04:24 p.m.**

Tony fought to ignore his throbbing headache as he led Peter down towards the labs. Safe to say, his little chat with Ross had left him a little miffed and annoyed, not to mention he now had a wondrous desire to bludgeon himself to death with a blunt object.

Ever since their escape from the Raft, Ross had been all over Tony's ass, barking at him to track and locate his ex-teammates.

Of course, Tony had no plans in mind to try finding the Rogue Avengers. Cause finding them meant he'd have to see them. And he wasn't about to be doing that anytime soon.

In all honesty, Tony really just wanted to forget about them.

But of course, Ross couldn't have that. So every other day, Tony either had to dodge, ignore or reluctantly indulge the man in his little rants about how those felons deserved to be strung up or shot. He'd also try his hardest to convince Tony to help in the search.

Really all those conversations did was empty Tony's medicine cabinet of all the headache medication they had. That...and one certain special fridge in the back reaches of the kitchen.

However, Tony had come to realize something in all the conversations he'd held with Ross. Each and every time the man asked him for information, Tony always denied him that pleasure. And even when he did give him something, it was usually more times than not, a lie.

He didn't know why he did it. In all truthfulness, simply telling the Secretary the truth would most likely be the easiest thing for him. It'd get Ross of his back and he would have the pleasure of dropping this irksome topic from his mind.

So why did he always lie?

The man simply told himself that he didn't want to give Ross the satisfaction of getting to him. Might as well make it a bit of a challenge for him in finding the rogue Avengers. It couldn't be because he was protecting them.

They didn't deserve that.

No. It was just to screw with Ross. Just that. Nothing else.

It _couldn't_ be anything else.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony blinked back to reality as the small voice dragged him from his thoughts. Glancing around, the man noticed they'd arrived at the lab without him even realizing it.

He cleared his throat before placing his usual smirk onto his face. "Right, we should probably be doing some actual work, huh?" He glanced down at Peter.

The teen blinked up at him.

"Right…" Tony muttered as he led the boy into the room. "Take a seat, Peter." He instructed, the boy instantly obeying as he sat down at one of the workbenches. "I'll be right back."

The man moved away from the teen as he walked further into the lab. Quickly entering the restricted area of his lab, which was cut off from everybody but himself, the man moved over towards the back wall and brushed his fingers over the small keypad installed into the sleek surface.

Punching in the ten-digit code, Tony watched as the wall opened up to reveal a secret room inside the structure. Walking inside, the billionaire rummaged around until he found what he was looking for.

For a moment, Tony stared down at the plans in his hands, debating whether or not he really wanted to go through with this. The man craned his neck out to gaze back out over the lab. His eyes fell on Peter, who was patiently sitting where the billionaire had left him, twiddling his fingers as he sat silently.

Tony let out a sigh as he rolled the plans up. _Screw it, why not?_ He muttered as he exited the secret room, punching in the code once more as he stepped away.

Peter perked as the man fell into his line of sight once again, jumping as Tony slammed a pile of papers down in front of him.

"Wha-"

"You said you wanted to learn. Well no better way than to do it yourself." The man cut him off with a smirk as he pushed the main plans into Peter's hands.

The teen fumbled with the papers for a moment before clearing them in his hands, spreading them so that he could read what they said. It didn't take long for his eyes to widen. "No way…" He breathed before turning towards Tony. "Are these…?"

"Plans for a miniature arc reactor? Yes, I think they are." The billionaire snarked as he moved to sit across from the teen.

Peter blubbered in his seat as he stared wide-eyed at the pages. "B...but I...I-I…"

"You did say you wanted to learn, right?"

"Well, yeah! But this is...and I mean…" He trailed off before turning to stare at the man. "Can I really?" He asked in such a genuinely hopeful voice that Tony almost laughed.

"Like I said, kid. Best way to learn is to do it yourself." He murmured before his eyes widened. "Uh, with my supervision of course." He added quickly. "I doubt your father would be very happy if I deliver home a pile of charred skin and burned clothes that was once his son."

Peter gave a small laugh, a welcome substitute for the usual uncomfortableness he displayed whenever Richard was mentioned.

The teen glanced back down at the plans displayed before him before tilting his head back up at the man. "Is this a test?"

"Yep!" Tony said without hesitation. "Just think of it as a pop-quiz to earn my respect and reverence." The man said overdramatically.

Peter gave a small smile. "And just how many people have passed that quiz?"

"Very few, actually. So no pressure!"

Tony watched as the teen smiled, a notion that almost made the billionaire do the same. Almost. "Well, why don't you go ahead and get started on that? You can use whatever you need to around here once you finish up with your calculations. Take as much time as you need." He explained as he stood up. "And please do try not to blow yourself up. I'd really hate to-"

The man paused in his long-winded remarks as he caught sight of something on the teen's sleeve. There, on his left forearm, the sweater sleeve seemed to be stained with something that almost resembled-

"Are you bleeding?"

Peter looked up at the man, following his gaze to his forearm. Tony watched as the teen's face quickly morphed into one of dismay and fear as he hastily tried to hide the limb from the man's line of sight. "Uhh...it's...i-it's nothing." He babbled.

Tony quirked an eyebrow as he moved closer. "Come on, kid. There's A med kid over here." He motioned for the teen to follow him over to the side of the room, assuming the teen had just accidentally cut himself without realizing.

Peter, however, seemed to have other plans as he gave a nervous smile. "T-that's alright...M-Mr. Stark. I'm okay. Y-you don't n-need...need to worry about it."

Tony shook off the remark as he pulled the red medical bag off of the wall - a device which had been forcefully installed in his lab by the conjoined forces of Pepper and Rhodey in July of last year. Safe to say, there had been many explosions that year.

"It's fine, Peter. Just let me check it out so Pepper doesn't chew my head off."

The teen shook his head. "Really! I'm...I'm good, Mr. Stark. It's..it's nothing big. J-just a little scratch. It'll...b-be gone in a sec, anyways."

Tony narrowed his eyes. The teen was very adamant in refusing his help. _Too adamant._ He thought to himself as the teen continued to deflect. Unfortunately for him, Tony was the resident champion of deflecting. So his pathetic attempt only made red flags flare up in the billionaire's mind. _What are you hiding, kid?_

"It's fine, Peter. Come here." He said a little more forcefully.

"Seriously, it's not a b-big deal. I can just-"

 _"Peter."_

Tony didn't miss the way the teen flinched at the harsh tone he'd used, nor did it make him feel very good. Nevertheless, he continued on. "Come here."

The teen's face quickly scrunched in nervousness as he ducked his head and slowly crossed the room. Tony motioned for the teen to sit down on the table surface so that he could have good access to the injury, whatever the extent.

However, Tony wasn't expecting to roll up the teen sleeve to find a sloppily-wrapped bandage soaked in blood covering the limb. His eyes furrowed in confusion as he stared at the wrap. "What the hell…?" He breathed as he moved to unwrap the bandages, taking notice of the slightly panicked look on Peter's face as he did so.

As he finally pulled the bandage away, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open at the sight before him. "Holy shit!" He shouted.

The teen's arm looked like a mangled piece of meat. The skin was rubbed raw, flaring a bright red color that contrasted against the pale papery white of the teen's natural complexion. Various scratches marred the skin and a deep, harsh slash mark stretched from the teen's wrist up to the base of his elbow. And the blood. Fresh and dried blood mixed together as it coated the teen's limb.

"What the hell is this, Peter?" He shouted, forgetting to mind the volume of his voice as he stared back up at the teen, who winced underneath the man's gaze. "I..I-I…" The teen stuttered softly.

Tony stared at him for a moment longer before moving to grab some of the antiseptic wipes and medical-grade bandages that made the previous ones look like cheap toilet paper.

Peter hissed in pain as the man carefully dragged the cloth along the arm, clearing it of the fresh and dried blood that had covered the limb. As he worked, the man's face held a look of anger and confusion, something Peter did not miss.

"You better start explaining, Parker." Tony growled out, glaring back up at the teen, who looked like he might throw up. "How the hell did this happen? Was it something on patrol?"

Peter hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod of his head.

Tony turned his head away as his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I didn't get any messages from the suit…" He murmured more to himself than to anyone else. "And shouldn't this have healed by now if it happened on patrol?" He asked the teen harshly, racking his brain to remember the extent of Peter's powers the teen had told him about. _Super healing was one of his powers, right?_

Peter kept his gaze locked on the ground as his voice shook. "Well, I-I...I haven't really….r-really, umm...gotten m-much sleep….l-lately and I d-didn't...eat too much y-yesterday or today s-so….so my...my powers aren't really….really at full s-strength right...right n-now." He stuttered out, seeming to choke on the words as he spewed them out.

Tony regarded the teen for a moment before he huffed, giving a shake of his head as he went back to working on the teen's arm, eyes hard and frustrated.

It took a moment of deep breaths before he spoke again. "If something like this happens on patrol again, I need to hear about it, alright? Cause Peter Parker may not be my responsibility, but Spider-Man sure as hell is." He snapped before giving a scoff of disbelief. "God, what the hell were you thinking? I mean, this isn't just some little scratch that'll heal in a blip like this." He snapped his fingers. "This is an actual, wound, Peter. This is serious!" He shouted.

The teen took in a shaky breath. "I...I thought I c-could handle...handle it."

"Yeah, well you obviously couldn't!" Tony snapped.

He shook his head as he continued to clean the arm, his frustrations that had been building throughout the entire day, the entire _week_ all boiling over. "Christ, how could you be so stupid?!" He shouted, throwing the soiled, blood-stained wipe to the ground before picking up another one. "You do _not_ keep these things from me, you understand?" He growled. "And if you ever think of trying to lie to me about something like this again-" He snapped, glaring up at the teen, only to pause in his rant as he finally took in the sight of the boy before him.

Peter's eyes were shut tightly, his chest heaving slightly as the teen's breath wavered. His shoulders shook as his free hand dug into the metal edge of the table. Small pricks of water collected at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry…"

The words were so broken, whispered so fearfully that Tony stopped working.

The man stared at the shivering teen before him for a moment longer before he let out a dejected sigh, silently going back to work on the boy's arm. After he finished cleaning the blood off, he carefully wrapped the arm in bandages before gently setting it down, Peter quickly whisking it close to his chest as he seemed to curl up defensively.

Tony said nothing as he silently packed up the bag, placing it back on the hook on the wall before turning back to the teen. For a minute, the man simply stood there, unsure as to what he should do. After a moment, he blew out a breath, sitting down beside the boy as he rubbed at his eyes.

"Why didn't you just tell me in the first place?" He asked in a much softer voice than before, all previous anger gone.

Peter cracked open his eyes as he carefully took in the man before him. After a second, the teen slowly lifted his head as he stared down at the arm in his lap. "I…" He started before glancing over towards Tony.

"I didn't think you'd care."

The billionaire's eyes widened slightly at that. The words shocked him, but not as much as the tone of voice behind them. There was no malice, no hate, no judgment in the words. It was the genuine shock behind them that made Tony rear back. It was almost as if the teen was confused at the man's concern.

"I…" He trailed off, unsure as to how he should even respond. "Of...course I... _care_ , Peter." He started, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as he deliberated how to handle the current situation.

After a minute, the man sighed and rested his elbows on his knees as he hunched forward. Peter did the same a moment later.

"Look...I get this is kind new for you. . . . . To be honest, it's kind of new for the _both_ of us." He confessed. "But I can't have you lying to me, Peter. Not about stuff like this, alright?" He said, turning towards the teen. "If you get hurt, I need to know about it. I need to know so I can help you."

Peter stared back at him.

"I don't know how you handled this stuff before, kid, but things are gonna have to change. I don't want to see you dealing with this crap by yourself anymore, because you don't have to, alright?" He said, hoping some of this was getting through to the teen.

Peter lowered his gaze. "I didn't want to bother you."

Tony blew a breath out. "It's...I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna take some adjusting. But...I'll get used to it. We'll get used to it, kid." He explained. "Just…" He trailed off for a minute.

"Don't be afraid to talk to me, alright? I'll listen. I might not be good at it, but I'll try." He said. And he meant it. He actually... _meant_ it. That _alone_ was enough to shock the both of them.

"But no more hiding stuff like this, okay? Spider-Man may be my responsibility, but...considering him and Peter Parker are one in the same..." He paused as he wondered where he was really going with this. What his point was, if he really even had one. He dragged a hand down his tired face. "God, this is so messed up..." He mumbled more to himself than anyone else.

"Look, kid. Like it or not, we're in this together now. And if you get hurt...if you're out there with the suit _I_ made you, fighting criminals _I_ allowed you to fight...and you get _hurt_..." He hesitated for a moment. "I feel like that's on me." He lowered his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat. "Next time you get hurt on patrol, be it a...sprained ankle, a dislocated shoulder, or heck even a sore muscle, I need to hear about it."

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Ah! None of that." Tony muttered. "No, ' _sirs'._ I already put up with the ' _Mr. Stark'_ nonsense. I do not need to be reminded of my father whenever I'm talking to you, 'kay?"

The teen nodded, Tony giving one of his own. "Good." He breathed out, a wash of relief flowing through him.

For a minute, the two sat in silence, simply taking in the other's presence as they took a moment to relax. Finally, after a second, Tony folded his arms over his chest. "I really can't have this again. Pepper will kill me if I break my new intern. I literally _just_ got you. He moaned overdramatically. "Besides, we just got these floors redone."

Peter couldn't help but smile at that. "Yeah...I'd hate to dirty up your pretty floors with my blood." He muttered softly.

Tony let out a small breathy laugh at that as he turned towards the teen. "Was that an air of cheekiness I detected?" He chuckled with wide eyes.

Peter grinned and turned away. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He giggled before hopping off the table, Tony quickly doing the same.

"Mm-hmm...just watch yourself, Parker. Don't go getting all cocky." Tony muttered with a smirk as he moved over towards his desk, Peter going to sit with the blueprints once more. The teen couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. "Oh, don't worry. You have enough cockiness for the both of us." He whispered out with a grin as he turned towards the prints.

Tony couldn't help but smile at that.

* * *

 _9) I Will Never Ask For Help. . . . . from anybody but Tony Stark._

* * *

 **SCHEDULE UPDATE: New chapters will be posted bi-weekly on every other MONDAY (not Sunday) *may change over the summer***

 **Thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: _BeautifulKnight, Luna Rosalyne, Mirla-chan, Modern Demigod Hero, Sol981, Spidergirl1289, Web-HeadSuperFan, animeotaku0434, chimongra, owllover32, slayertom08, FearTheFeels, FlamingoRocker712, Sailor Sea, lilmacmayer, nataku2709, s-kate-ler, 4evErGOdzillandAsian, Californiaclover, Jet Set Yoyo, LoRdlEsliELOVESFANDOMS, SirWaffles, Tikivriend, chocolate-is-the-best, , A Frozen Shadow, DARKSOMEONE41, Maitehimawari, .fire, Dementra, LOST in the supermarket, Kazuma-Arclight, Nocturnal Storyteller, Yabas, Annibal, InTheShadows3, RavenclawPrincess238, YaoifangirlolXD, briannaelise07, curry-llama, geekygirl440, Anita22, TheWriterin theAttic, aureo09, dehye, sammiiammi, CresantShooter123, Lady Triplet, saraiza, linkmidnazelda, PeteynotParker, shirozi, BluFaia, GuidingKey, Memerali, olivria, AlecCole, RisC3_**

 **Reviews:**

 **Phoenixhp5:** **Gracias! One of my favorite things to write is how perpectives and personalities can change at the drop of a hat with characters. I think that's why I love superheros so much like Batman or even Danny Phantom. It's fun to see how these characters can almost become totally different people.**

 **LiLuAin:** **I know. They're both adorable. It's hard to not imagine wrapping the two of them in a snuggly blanket with hot cocoa while simultaneously wearing ugly snugglies but totally just owning it and their ugliness proudly . . . where was I going with this?**

 **Toni42:** **I know. FOr some reason, I have a nasty habit of mentally maiming my favorite characters. Oops... Oh, I hope you brought tissues to the theater, buddy cause it's a Snot-Fest with nothing but sniffles and ugly-crying**

 **RosettaQueen20: Don't die, I actually need people to read this shitpile**

 **nataku2709: IDK, I'd have to figure out a way to incorporate it, but it would be cool XD**

 **guacamole lover: I DARE! I DARE SO HARD! Damn, where do you live? Cause I have a bad habit of posting like two minutes to midnight - which might not be the best when you still have to get a high-school education...**

 **EmPro8: True, but there's a difference between drawing a little blood from punching crooks in the face and being hurled in a puddle of blood by someone who was just _murdered_ in front of your eyes. _Maybe_ not the best thing for a kid... just saying. Oh, trust me, I plan on adding a _lot_ more Ned and Michelle so don't you worry!**

 **Agent blue rose: I'm so sorry... XD**

 **: Dude, I was full on ugly-crying. NO SHAME!**

 **A Frozen Shadow: Gracias! It's always fun for the angst stick to beat the angst characters with the angsty angst-. Oh jeez, the word has lost all meaning! And what you talking about? I didn't ENJOY Infinity War! I dont see how ANYBODY could have enjoyed that! It was just a three hour try-not-to-cry-challenge and we all LOST!**

 **Andipandi5: New Petition - all the hugs of the world now belng soley to one Peter Parker. Go embark to cuddle and pet him! GO FORTH!**

 **little miss BANANNA HEAD: Thank you. I try. I try. It's strange. Everybody seems to enjoy the sophistication and elequence of my writing style, but then they get down to the comments and I'm all like " _why is there a 'g' in the word laughter?"_ \- PS: the rules aren't going to go in order. They're just random - PPS: THANK YOU! Infinity War can go die in a hole. . . like my heart did... sorry I have to go cry again...**

 **Ammy of Asgard: Gracias, fight scenes are some of my favorite things to write. Though it is a bit of a challenge with Spidey just cause I'm not used to the way he fights (e.g. webbing and swinging) I'm more used to blasters, flying and ghost powers...hehehe...**

 **curry-llama: Ehh...maybe just a _little_ dick. OH, don't worry, you'll get to experience the full magnitutde of his dickitry soon enough.**

 **InTheShadows: GOOD! Be condused! Be very confused! JK, just keep reading. Things will clear up as you do.**

 **CresantShooter123: I know, I think Peter Paler is everyone's collective Spider-Child. Don't ask how...he just is.**

 **anon: Wait no longer, my little urchin. Read! Read to your heart's content!**

 **LiLuAin: Hej, mój polski przyjaciel wrócił! Nie ma problemu! Wszystko, co ułatwi ci życie. To znaczy, jeśli poświęcasz czas na przetłumaczenie całej mojej historii, to przynajmniej mogę przetłumaczyć mój komentarz, abyś nie musiał wykonywać żadnej pracy, niż już to robisz. Przy okazji, używam tylko tłumacza online XD w każdym razie, mam nadzieję, że nadal będziesz czerpać przyjemność z mojej historii**


	7. Evasive Maneuvers

**Chapter 7: Evasive Maneuvers**

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Midtown School of Science and Technology - Gymnasium**

 **11:44 a.m.**

Peter felt a small smile form on his face as he watched Ned trudge over, face contorted in frustration and agitation. "Dodgeball is the worst thing to ever happen to schools nationwide." The boy grumbled as he plopped down on the bleachers next to Peter.

"I think you could just end that sentence with _'the worst thing to ever happen'_ \- period." MJ mumbled from her seat above the two as she continued to draw in her sketchbook. Like Peter, she'd been one of the first people to get out. Though of course, that was bound to happen when you literally just walked up to the front of the line and spread your arms out like a sacrificial martyr.

Peter on the other hand...well, he was just happy to be sitting down.

The teen's hair was messy, more than usual as it hung down around his eyes, which were glassy and dark. Deep, purple bags set underneath the skin, the discoloration easy to see when you compared it to the rest of Peter's face, which was ashy and white-washed.

All in all, it was obvious the teen had had a rough morning. It's just that nobody really knew the true extent of said roughness.

Peter was wearing long sleeves under his gym shirt again.

Ned folded his arms over his chest as he glared out at the commencing battle on the polished gym floor. "This game is literally the worst. All it is is a way for the strong populars to show off."

Mj quirked an eyebrow as she lifted her gaze. "That, and it just gives them a reason to pummel losers in the face without any consequences." SHe noted, watching as Flash hurled another rubber ball into the face of an unsuspecting nerd. Damn...as if those glasses weren't crooked enough already.

The girl glanced over towards Peter, noticing how he had yet to make a comment, only to pause and sit up as she finally took in the sight of the teen. Considering gym was the first class either of the three friends had with each other that day, she had yet to see him before this. But now...now she kind of wished she hadn't.

"Peter?" She called, taking note of how the boy's slumped form barely moved as he glanced over at her. There was no trace of the teen's usual shy, happy radiance. He almost looked... _dead._ "...yeah?" He called softy when MJ hesitated.

Ned glanced over, having heard Michelle's voice, only to blink in shock as he finally stopped to take in Peter's appearance. "Whoa, dude..." He said softly, knowing from experience that Peter didn't really respond well to when he shouted. At least, not when he was like this. "Are you okay? You look like an extra on the Walking Dead."

Peter merely blinked as he glanced over at his friend. "M'fine." He mumbled.

MJ narrowed her eyes at that. "Really? Cause it _looks_ like you might keel over in a few seconds." She chided as she folded her arms over her chest. However, the main thing that concerned her was the fact that Peter didn't even try to reassure her in his usual way of tripping over his words and making a complete fool of himself.

He just shrugged and turned away.

Michelle opened her mouth to continue, ony to pause as she felt a hand come to rest on her knee. Glancing down, she noticed Ned was now looking at her. The teen stole one last glance over at Peter before he turned back to her. Ned gave a small shake of his head, eyes furrowed in concern as he threw her a knowing glance towards Peter. MJ knew what that look meant. Ned had given it to her too many times for her to count.

 _Just drop it...please._

Michelle Jones was nothing if not observant. When you don't have many people to talk to, you resort to listening to what _others_ have to say _around_ you. While most people were talking away and flying by, she would wait. Wait and watch. And _boy_ did she see a lot.

She saw the small puffs Mrs. Harris would take during lunch behind the dumpster where she assumed nobody could see her. She saw Missy Madson checking her phone for answers during the Chemistry quiz. She heard Megan Hill and Brian Turner plotting to graffiti the boys' locker room two days before it actually happened. She heard secrets. She saw hidden truths.

To her, everyone around her was a potential art subject. Though it was through her carefully observing them could she really tell just _how_ to draw them. With dark, jagged lines and harsh shading, or with soft, smooth curves and gentle features.

However, there was one particular subject that had caught her attention on more than one occasion.

Peter Parker had always been a strange kid, even in middle school. She'd never talked to him, not back then at least. Though she wondered if anyone really _had._ He had been even shyer than he was now. In fact, the only person she ever remembered seeing around the kid was Ned. Even back then, the girl had been quick to pick up on a few things. The reclusive demeanor, the tense posture, the firm silence.

Safe to say, she had had her suspicions.

Two years later, those suspicions had evolved to full-blown warning bells.

Michelle wasn't stupid. She wasn't blind either. Every day Peter would show up to school with a new bruise on his face, every flinch he gave, every eye he refused to meet, every sentence he stuttered on was just another nail in her coffin of hope. Hope that she was just being paranoid. Hope that perhaps her observation skills were malfunctioning.

They definitely were not.

Maybe _that_ was when the girl began talking to the two teens. They'd been on the Decathlon team for a few months and had barely spoken any words to each other. Then one day, MJ sat in between Peter and Ned instead of her usual seat and just made herself at home. To the two boys, the action was completely random, but for Michelle...well, she only _wished_ it had been random.

From then on, the girl had spent more and more time with the two losers, actually finding herself _enjoying_ their company. That was something she'd never really experienced before. Sure, she'd had friendships before, but never any she'd actually wanted to continue. Usually, once the school year ended, it was goodbye Friend #13. _H_ _ello,_ #14.

Somehow, Michelle doubted that would be the case this year.

At first, the girl had been unsure of her actions. After all, she didn't know a single goddamn thing about the two boys. Okay...that wasn't completely true. After all, she'd been watching them for two years. But, fine! She'd never actually _hung_ around them before.

But after a while, the girl began to warm up to the nerds. She found out that Ned was basically the human equivalent to a giant teddy bear. The teen somehow always had a grin on his face and warm greetings in his pocket. He was always excited about something and was constantly trying to make everyone around him just as happy and excited as he was all the time.

It was a refreshing contrast to the usual bitchy, backstabbing, dickishness that was the rest of her peers and classmates.

And Peter . . . well. . .

She'd never met anyone like Peter before.

In the beginning, the teen was how he'd always been. He was quiet and nervous around her, picking and choosing his words carefully and more often than not, hiding behind Ned, allowing the extrovert to speak for him. But after a few months of Decathlon passed, she found that Peter slowly began to warm up to her. He would talk to her, albeit with a horrible stutter, and attempt to hold conversation. It helped that her carefree, flippant attitude seemed to relax and calm the boy's fluctuating nerves. Soon after, she found that the boy would actually seek her out simply to be in her company. This, Michelle had expected.

She did _not_ , however, expect what came next.

She didn't expect to appreciate his soft-spoken voice and kind words. She didn't expect to laugh at his snarky jokes, finding that the kid was actually pretty funny when he chose to speak. She didn't expect to discover that the teen was one of the sweetest, kindest people she'd ever meet. She didn't expect to cherish their friendship as much as she now did.

Michelle Jones wasn't stupid. Michelle Jones was nothing if not observant. And Michelle Jones loved her friends more than anything.

Which was why Ned's silent plead for her to _drop_ _it_ made her want to scream. But instead, she threw the teen a knowing glare as she suddenly rose up from her seat. Ned started at the quick movement, balking as he watched the girl walk down the bleachers towards Peter. However, instead of snapping at him with harsh words and fierce glares, Ned watched with wide eyes as the she silently sat down right next to Peter.

The boy slowly glanced over at her, watching as she turned to face him. The hard features of her face seemed to melt as she gave him a small smile, eyes filling with something Peter had never seen in them before. Whatever it was...it made the crumbling wall inside of him crack just a little more as he shut his eyes, feeling small tears pool in the corners as his chest gave a small shudder, his arms coming to wrap tightly around his midsection.

Michelle said nothing as she placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. She watched from out of the corner of her eye as Ned scooted closer as well, wrapping a steadying hand against Peter's back. MJ let out a small sigh as she rested her cheek against the teen's shoulder, gently rubbing small circles with her thumb against his skin.

For a while, though it might have only been for a few seconds, the three friends simply sat in the silence, relishing in each other's comforting company as the sounds of a warring dodgeball game sounded far off and distant.

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

"Flash just got hit in the face. . . . .guess this game does have a _few_ perks."

Both Michelle and Ned raised their heads to look at Peter as he watched the commencing game, a soft smile now playing on his lips as he spoke. MJ stared at him for a moment longer before letting out a snort, which soon turned into a full-blown laugh. The two boys were quick to follow as the three friends began to howl with laughter, many heads turning their direction as the other kids gave them quizzical looks before turning back towards their game.

It was just the losers. Nothing important.

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Midtown School of Science and Technology - Building 3**

 **1:24 p.m.**

 **"** _Alleged reports place The Falcon circling over the outer buildings of Brooklyn at around 11:23 p.m last night. The images that were sent to us are fuzzy, but multiple eyewitness accounts verify that the recently-named fugitive was spotted."_

Nobody in the classroom made a sound as the news report from the night before was projected onto the screen. Mr. Harrington stood next to the projector, face unreadable as usual as he watched the report along with his students, Peter included.

" _Nearly a month has passed since the controversial decision to name many members of the Avengers as fugitives, a choice that has led to a wave of backlash and protest. Nevertheless, police assure that they are doing everything in their power to bring down any and all breakers of the law, Avengers or not."_

"This is such _bullshit!"_ Flash snarled as report ended and the lights were brought back up. Peter blinked as he tried to adjust his eyes to the harsh switch in lighting while the rest of the students turned to Flash. He was usually the most vocal in their class.

"How could the police actually think they're the enemies? I mean, are they just _that_ stupid? No wonder Spidey has to do all the work for them!" He practically shouted.

Betty nodded her head. "I know, right? They're all making such a big deal over nothing. I mean, so what if the Avengers broke one little law? It was a stupid law anyway." She muttered while fiddling with the tips of her perfectly cut nails. Many students nodded their heads while others looked unsure.

Ever since the high-profile topic of the Sokovia Accords and the Rogue Avengers started, it had basically become the focal point of Mr. Harrington's Current Events class. It had also become one of Peter's least favorite moments of the day. The last thing he needed was Flash spouting off some nonsense and ill-placed knowledge on topics he had no right butting in on.

But he wasn't about to tell him that, now was he?

Another popular, more reserved girl, Gwen Stacy quirked an eyebrow as she stared at the picture still being displayed on the board. It was a horrible grainy picture of the sky, a small fuzzy winged figure flying above a number of buildings. "Are we sure that isn't just a picture of an actual falcon?" She asked.

Flash ignored her as he continued to rant. "How long are they going to keep pretending that the Avengers are the bad guys?"

"As long as they _are."_

All heads in the class turned towards Michelle, who was lazily sketching in her book. Peter tilted his head. MJ usually wasn't one to speak up about this sort of thing. It wasn't that she didn't have anything to say, it's just that most of the time, she didn't _care_ enough to. That didn't seem to be the case today.

"What are you talking about?" Flash muttered, narrowing his eyes.

MJ lifted her head, sharp eyes trailing onto Flash. "I'm talking about the fact that the Avengers broke the law. Stupid or not, it's still the law. So, of course, they're criminals. They did what every other criminal does. Disregard all rules and regulation and go their own way." She explained. "The only difference this time is that the law decided to push back."

Ned furrowed his brow. "So are you saying they deserve to be treated this way?" He asked.

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "They're being treated like every other rule-breaker. I don't see the problem."

Flash grit his teeth as he turned fully around to face her. "The _problem,_ Jones, is that they _aren't_ your average rule breakers. They're the frikkin _Avengers!_ "

"They're saved the world like a bazillion times." Another kid, Jason Ionello, chimed in.

Sally rolled her eyes. "It was like, only _two_ times, man."

"Still!"

Peter glanced back at Mr. Harrington, who was moving back over towards his desk. The laid-back teacher, who was also the sponsor for the Decathlon team, usually didn't interfere much with the discussions they held. He liked to give his kids free range to say what they felt about the more current matters. This was only one of the reasons he was most people's favorite teacher.

A member of the Decathlon team, Charles, lifted his head. "I don't know. She kind of has a point. Even superheroes shouldn't be above the law."

Flash glared at him. "So you're saying they should be treated like the _other_ skumbag robbers and thieves?" He snapped. "Look, the point is that they're _superheroes_! This stupid law is just messing with them." He stated like he knew everything about the fact. "They're not the bad guys here."

"So who is?" Betty Brant asked, now addressing the rest of the class.

"Duh, the government!" Flash threw out. "They're the ones that split the Avengers up _and_ are pushing for the arrest of the others so it obviously has to be them!"

Peter let out a sigh as he rested a cheek against his fist. This class was becoming less and less of Current Events and more Conspiracy Theories 101 with each passing day. Honestly, he was getting a _little_ tired of it.

Gwen narrowed her eyes in thought. "That's another thing I'm still a little confused on. If what you're saying is true-"

"It is."

" _If_ it is-" She continued, throwing a glare in Flash's direction. "-then how come the other Avengers aren't doing anything to prove their teammates innocence. If they were as _wronged_ as you claim they were, then how come we aren't hearing from people like Tony Stark about how we need to rally behind them?" She asked.

Nobody said anything at that. It wasn't a secret that Tony Stark hadn't shown much of his face to the media after the announcement of the Sokovia Accords as well as the update on the status of the Avengers. The usually exuberant and flashy media mascot had been noticeably quiet. That _alone_ had people talking. In fact, there were even some bogus conspiracies online that Tony had died during the skirmish with the other Avengers and that _that_ was the reason they were on the run and that the government was trying to cover it up with the Sokovia Accords.

Peter had to give people props. They could really be creative when they wanted to be.

However, he was pulled from his thoughts as his Spidey Senses flared up. He ducked out of the way right as the pencil flew by his ear. He turned back around to glare at Flash, who was smirking triumphantly at him. "What do you want?"

The teen narrowed his eyes. "I've been calling your name, Parker. What, you high or something?"

"Isn't that more _your_ thing?" Peter muttered before his brain could catch up with him. Flash had obviously heard him, and judging by the snickers around him, the rest of the class had as well. The dark-skinned boy glared at him and clenched his fists angrily. _Nice job, Peter, you IDIOT!_

However, Flash was quick to replace the angered look with a smug one as he grinned. "As I was saying _before,_ I wanted to know if Tony Stark has told you anything on this stuff." He said, his voice holding an air of contempt and superiority.

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"

The teen shrugged his shoulders. "It's just that you're such _good_ friends with him, I thought maybe he told you something on this." He gave Peter a knowing look. "Unless of course...he _doesn't_ tell you stuff." He fiddled with another pencil he'd fished out of his backpack. "But the only way he _wouldn't_ tell you stuff is if you weren't there to _hear it!_ " He chuckled. "But I mean, that's _clearly_ not the case, cause you have your _internship, right?"_ He asked, the words dripping with sarcasm.

Peter could practically _see_ the bait Flash was dangling in front of his face. A quick glance around the classroom told him that everyone was now staring at him, wondering how he would respond. The numerous sets of eyes on him made an uncomfortable prickle run down his spine, but he quickly swallowed his nerves down. The last thing he needed was more backlash from Flash, which is _exactly_ what he'd get if he chickened out now.

Instead, the teen simply shrugged his shoulders. "No. He hasn't said anything about this to me." He settled on. "Though I doubt this is the kind of thing you talk to your employees about anyways."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ned and MJ giving him proud smiles. The uncomfortable prickle settled down at that. Flash, however, did not. "That's bull, Parker. You just don't know cause you don't know _him!"_ He growled, frustrations bubbling at the fact that Peter hadn't taken the bait.

The boy in return merely folded his arms across his chest as he glared down at his desk. He was really getting tired of this today "As shocking as you may find this, Flash, deep personal problems are not the kind of thing interns fix for their bosses." He growled. "Not that you'd know anything about that." He muttered under his breath, though it was obvious that everyone had heard it if only by the way a collective snicker sounded out around the room. It wasn't a secret that Flash had applied for an internship at Stark Industries _loads_ of times. Safe to say, he'd never even come _close_ to getting accepted.

Peter was quick to realize just how open he was being, hastily shutting it down even quicker. Last thing he needed was that defensive attitude following him home. However, Flash seemed very opposed to letting it go as the teen hastily stood up from his seat. Once again, Peter took note of the slight blush around his cheeks as the class continued to snicker. "You got something you want to say to me, Penis?!" He snarled, eyes blazing as he threateningly stepped closer.

"Alright, alright, kids. Let's settle down." Mr. Harrington called, rising up from his seat. "Flash, knock it off. Nobody needs your tough-guy attitude right now." The man scolded. Flash glanced over at the teacher, giving Peter one last hateful look before slumping down in his seat with a huff.

Peter let out a dejected sigh as he mentally kicked himself for getting so careless with his words. He noticed the small look of concern Mr. Harrington was giving him and gave him a small reassuring nod.

One thing about Mr. Harrington that set him apart from the other teachers was the fact that he seemed much more observant than the others. He was always quick to steer attention and focus away from the shy boy whenever he could, plus he always seemed to be the first to reprimand Flash for his threats and insults. It was pretty obvious that the teacher had taken a liking to the shy teen.

Peter wondered if it was merely out of pity. He was willing to bet it was.

Well...if it kept Flash off his back for at least _one_ class of the day...

Peter ran his fingers gingerly over the fabric of his jacket. Even through the thick layers of the material, he could feel the bumps in his skin from where the scars were forming. Running his hand down to his wrist, the teen traced his finger over the fresh injection sights near his wrist. Peter let out a small sigh and placed his head in his hand, running his fingers through his curls.

Today had started out as a pretty shit day, he couldn't lie. As he moved his hand to rub at the back of his neck, Peter gave a silent prayer of thanks to a force he no longer believed in that today was Wednesday. God knew he really couldn't face going anywhere _near_ his house for the next hours. Not after the morning he'd had.

His fingers ran over the scarring incision mark running along the back of his neck. The _fresh_ incision mark.

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Lobby**

 **3:02 p.m.**

Peter placed his badge on the scanner and watched as the blockades shot down into the ground, allowing him to slip through the metal barriers. " _Hello, Peter. A pleasure to see you again."_ The teen smiled up towards the ceiling as FRIDAY's comforting voice filtered down. "Hi, FRIDAY. Nice to...uh... _hear_ you? I guess..." He mumbled unsurely before walking farther into the building.

"You _still_ haven't found him yet?"

Peter's ears perked at the recognizably annoyed voice sounding from one of the waiting rooms. He blinked in mild surprise, hesitating slightly before deciding to continue on.

"No! I swear, that jackass better still be in the building or I swear I am going to-" Rhodey was quick to cut himself off from saying anything too incriminating as both he and Pepper watched as Peter unexpectedly entered the room, a confused look now marring his face as he stared back at the two clearly aggravated adults facing off against each other.

"Umm...am...am I interrupting s-something?" The teen whispered out meekly.

Pepper smoothed out her slightly wrinkled skirt as she cleared her throat. "No...no, it's fine, Peter. Come on in." She said in a much calmer voice than before, not wanting to make the teen nervous. "Right, well..." The boy's eyes shifted over towards Rhodey, the man making a nervous twinge jolt in his chest. He didn't know the Colonel all that well.

That didn't bode well for him.

"I...I w-was just wondering if...if you knew where Mr. Stark is."

Rhodey let out a small scoff as he folded his arms. "Yeah, that's what we'd like to know." He muttered. At Peter's cocked eyebrow, the man elaborated. "We're trying to find him, but so far we've had no luck."

Pepper let out an aggravated sigh. "We have an SI Board of Directors meeting today and Tony's _supposed_ to be present for _this_ one." She growled out, still sore at the fact that the billionaire had left her alone to face off against those vultures disguised as directors for the last few meetings. _Yeah, well not this time._ The woman thought to herself. _This time he's suffering with me._ She plotted, ignoring how maniacal and crazy those thoughts made her seem.

Whatever, she was totally fine.

The woman pushed a strand of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. "Anyways, we're pretty sure he's holed up _somewhere_ in the Tower, so we're trying to find him." SHe explained, leaving out the fact that they also had most of the staff vying to locate the billionaire as well, along with the security guards and even a few of the automated robot helpers around the labs.

. . .

 _What?_ She was _not_ letting him off so easy this time. He _would_ suffer with her!

The teen awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, internally wincing as his fingers brushed up against his scar. "Umm...couldn't you just. . . . I-I don't know...maybe just ask F-FRIDAY or something?" He asked.

Rhodey huffed in annoyance that Peter hoped wasn't aimed at him. "We tried that. Apparently, that jackwad set up some new protocol that hinders her from disclosing his location per his orders." He explained with an agitated grunt.

Peter tilted his head at the comical scene before him as Rhodey muttered something about checking the labs again, the man disappearing from sight a moment later. Despite the irritated looks that had adorned their faces, Peter could detect a trace of concern etched into their features. Of course, he most likely would not have picked up on it had he not been close enough to see the nervous twitching of Pepper's fingers or the constant motion of her hand continuously straightening out her already-pristine hair.

Peter knew enough about reading people to notice the woman was nervous about something. Peter suspected she was not looking for Mr. Stark just to scold him about some stupid meeting. No. This was about something else.

But he wasn't just going to go ask her, now was he?

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, the teen shrugged his shoulders. "I can go and check the office floors if you want." He spoke softly.

Pepper, having been staring distractedly at her phone, glanced up at Peter's voice. Taking a second to register his words, the woman smiled. "Thank you, sweetie." She called as Peter began to make his way over towards the elevator. "Just notify FRIDAY if you find him and I'll come and maul him myself." She muttered.

The teen gave a small smile. "Guess I have that to look forward to, then." He mused before stepping into the elevator. With a few kind words to FRIDAY, the elevator was quickly ascending. Peter stepped out into the quiet, empty hallway as the doors opened up.

The room was mainly divided into two parts. To the right of the elevator, there was a stylish, modernly set-up waiting room, complete with sofas, tables and a few books and magazines. To the left of the set-up and the central hall, there was a long, transparent wall that was split down the middle by a single solid, grey-colored wall.

Walking down the hallway, Peter inferred that the wall separated the space into two main offices: Tony's and Pepper's. Peering in through the glass walls, Peter noticed that both rooms were empty. In fact, the entire hall was devoid of all life as Peter glanced around the room. Though he assumed that was to be expected considering this floor was most likely restricted to the more higher-level people of the building. And of course, the company CEO and owner would be pretty high up on that list.

Such a realization had Peter quickly fretting over whether or not he was even allowed up here. After all, FRIDAY obviously wasn't one to shy him away from any restricted areas if Mr. Stark's lab had been any indication. The teen wondered whether or not the AI did that with everyone.

Quickly deciding to check the rest of the room and bolt, the teen began walking down the rest of the long hallway. As he did, Peter thought back to what Pepper had said. He found it hard to imagine Mr. Stark hiding out in some random corner of the building just to get out of going to some meeting so the chances of this being about something else continued to grow in his eyes.

He could only _wonder_ what it was about though. Clearly, if the billionaire was going to such lengths to avoid the issue, it was something bad. But then, what could it be? Peter furrowed his brows as he fiddled with the loose strings inside his jacket pockets.

His mind drifted back to the conversation that had been brewing in class that day. The Sokovia Accords. The Falcon sighting. The rogue Avengers. Peter had grown tired of the incessant babbling of the people around him trying to figure out the mystery that _was_ that whole ordeal. Obviously, _something_ had made everyone go bat-shit crazy. Peter knew. He'd seen it first-hand. _Hell,_ he'd _felt_ it first-hand.

Captain America punched _hard._

The teen let out a small sigh as he continued to walk, his thoughts slowly beginning to bind together collectively. If these Accords, if these conversations were getting to _him,_ then he could only _imagine_ what it was like for Mr. Stark. After all, _Peter_ hadn't been close to the other Avengers. _Peter_ hadn't had them as teammates. _Peter_ wasn't the one who suffered from all of it.

The boy thought back to when Tony had returned from Siberia. Even after all this time, he still couldn't get the image of the man's shattered, heartbroken eyes out of his head. It was like they were burned in his mind. Carved like stone.

Peter filtered through the recent meetings he'd had with the billionaire over the last few weeks. They'd all been casual and calm. The man was constantly in a state of snark and wit, a comical retort or lazy joke on the tip of his tongue at all times as a smirk was constantly plastered onto his face.

Peter had enough experience to know a fake smile when he saw one, though.

But the teen also had enough experience to know when he was in over his head, and this was _definitely_ one of those times. I mean, it wasn't like he could actually _do_ anything to help the billionaire. He was just some stupid kid with messed up problems of his own! What could he possibly do to help someone when he couldn't even help himself?

Peter let out a small sigh as he began to approach the small janitorial closet located on the side of the back wall. The teen could only hope that other, more...qualified, more... _useful_ people could do something more, could do something to... _help._

 _Someone_ should get some, at least.

Peter let out a small puff as he reached the end of the hall - with no sign of Tony Stark. Lazily spinning around on his heel, the teen debated on whether or not he should go down to help Rhodey search the labs. After all, they were pretty big with plenty of nooks and crannies to hide. But then again...that would mean interacting with the colonel.

. . .

Hmm...maybe the cafeteria? _Yeah right. Like he'd ever step foot in there._

Before the teen could deliberate with himself any longer, the sound of a door opening to his left sounded right as a strong hand clamped down around his arm. Peter yelped in shock as he was dragged into the janitor's closet, the door closing behind him as it plummeted him into darkness...with a stranger.

The teen instantly lashed out with a gasp of shock, only for the hands to move to his wrists. "Whoa whoa! Ease up, Happy-Slapper!" A new, _recognizable_ voice scoffed. Peter had to take a second to blink away his shock, but it came through in his voice anyway.

 _"M-Mr. STARK?!"_

He felt one of his wrists slip from calloused fingers as the lights suddenly burst on. Peter winced at the harsh change before blinking back up, taking in the sight before him. Tony was still holding on to one of his wrists while the other hand was just now leaving the newly flicked light switch. "Yeah, hi." The man said casually...you know...like he _wasn't_ standing in a small, cramped closet with a teenager surrounded by cleaning supplies, mops, and questionably-stained brooms.

"I...I-I don't..." Peter could barely even speak as he pressed a hand to his forehead. "What are you doing?!"

"Standing here. Talking to you."

"No, I-" The teen paused with an exasperated sigh. He missed Tony's amused chuckle at the fact that the teen's face almost looked identical to the looks Pepper and Rhodey got whenever his antics were at an all-time high. "I mean...w-what are you doing _here?_ Why are you in a closet?"

The billionaire shrugged his shoulders as he reached behind him and pulled out a half-eaten bag of chips from who-knows-where. _How often does he hide in here?!_

"One downfall to owning one of the most successful companies in the nation is that you have to deal with a _ton_ of bullshit asshats who feel obligated to tell you what to do and how to do it. Cue SI Board of Directors meeting." The man said, pointing a finger at nothing. "Yeah, well..I _pay_ people to do things I don't want to do and that person just so happens to be Pepper. But _of course_ , she insists I attend those meeting. Says something like 'it's _your_ company' and _'be responsible'_ or _'would you just listen and-'"_

"... _and_ what?"

"Hmm...? Oh I don't know. I wasn't listening."

Peter couldn't help the small amused scoff that fell from his lips as the man continued. "Anyway, I already have _plenty_ of meeting I have to attend every other _month_. I think she can handle these ones without me." He folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, I have better things to do with my time."

Peter furrowed a brow and cast a small, questioning glance around him. "You mean like hiding out in broom closets?"

. . .

. . .

. . .

"...yes."

The teen let out a breathy laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well...I mean, I _guess_ t-this counts as a way to address your problems." He muttered.

Tony nodded. "Yep. Just don't."

Peter watched as the man moved over towards the door, revealing that on the shelves behind him, there were a couple blankets and...and a _sleep mask_? _Seriously! How often did he do this?!_

The man casually cracked open the door slightly, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at something outside. "Welp, looks like Joe finished up downstairs earlier than usual." He muttered before closing the door once again.

"Who's Joe?"

"Our janitor." Tony replied as he pushed the bag of chips into Peter's unsuspecting arms, the teen floundering for a second before gaining a good grip. Lifting his head back up, he noticed Tony was now holding one of the brooms off to the side. Lifting it up into the air, he watched as the man easily pushed the end of the broom against the air vent cover above them.

It was obvious the vent had been moved and opened before because it slid off with little resistance. And all the while, Tony was _whistling. Whistling!_ LIke this was an everyday occurrence!

Then again...that probably was the case. This _was_ Tony Stark after all.

"Uhh...do you do this...often?"

The man shrugged as he repositioned a small step stool with the toe of his shoe. "At least twice a month." He replied as he climbed onto the stool. "I've just never had an accomplice before." He casually swung himself up into the vent, Peter watching with wide, unbelieving eyes. It wasn't long before Tony's head popped back out, the man giving him a questioning look.

"Well? You coming or what, kid?

Peter could only gape up at the man with wide eyes, mouth parted slightly in shock at the sight unfolding before him. IN all honesty, this was _not_ what he'd been expecting to do today, especially not with how his day had started out. Tony noticed the teen's hesitance and rolled his eyes, lowering his hand towards the kid.

The teen stared at the outstretched limb for a moment before his eyes flashed with a new determination.

He could use a little distraction.

Without another word, he lifted his arm and grabbed Tony's hand.

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Labs L1-K9**

 **3:34 p.m.**

" _Still_ nothing?" Pepper asked incredulously, glaring up at the ceiling as Rhodey's voice filtered through the Bluetooth earpiece. _"I'm telling you, Pep. The guy's not here!"_

The woman growled and began to rub the bridge of her nose. "Great, and now we can't find _Peter!"_

 _"Knowing Tony, he probably kidnapped him."_

Pepper let out a long annoyed sigh. ". . . . I know."

 _"Look, maybe he circled back to the offices or something. Didn't we find him napping in a storage closet last time?_ "

"It's worth a shot. Send some of the boys to go and check the upper levels. Come and meet me back in the lobby and we can try and regroup. Maybe I can coax him out by leading a trail of coffee grounds on the floor to a cardboard box propped up with a stick..." Her voice faded away as the woman rounded a corner and disappeared.

Not even a few moments later, both Peter and Tony poked their heads out from around the corner wall they'd been hiding behind. The former had a look of unease plastered on his face will the latter looked like he was having a grand old time.

"Got to admit, the coffee plan doesn't sound half bad."

"Seriously?"

"Hey, I'm prepared to say it should be considered another great natural resource right alongside oil and coal." Tony scoffed as he straightened out the hem of his suit. Peter merely gave a small shake of his head as he glanced down at his shoes. "Good thing I don't have much homework today." He muttered more to himself than anyone else. Nevertheless, Tony still heard.

"Oh, right. School. That's like...a _thing_ you have to do."

"That's... _one_ way to put it." Peter answered slowly, giving a small snort at the billionaire's jab.

"How's that going anyways?" Tony asked absentmindedly as he checked around the corner for any signs of approaching guards or one furious redhead. So far, the coast was clear.

Peter gave a small shrug. ""It's...it's fine, I guess. It's..." He paused, trailing after Tony as the man began to walk through the empty labs, grateful that break would last for another couple minutes. "I don't know...it's kind of boring." The teen grumbled.

Tony hummed. "Yeah, I get that. You're, what, _fourteen?_ Too young to drive and yet probably smarter than most of your teachers?"

The boy's cheeks flushed at the compliment, hands wringing the edge of his jacket. The action made Tony wonder whether or not the boy was used to receiving such words of praise. He was willing to bet on the negative.

Peter shook the words off and continued on. "Well I mean, half the stuff they teach me is crap I already know, and the other half is stuff I'll literally _never_ have to use ever again." He ranted, Tony listening in with an amused smirk. "I mean, unless, you know, I go to a store and just _happen_ to buy 38 jars of peanut butter and want to figure out what the total ratio of peanut to butter is to the tenth degree." He muttered with a roll of his eyes before falling silent, coming to rub at the back of his neck. "Sorry...I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

Tony couldn't help the humored huff that fell from his lips. "You're good, kid." That was another thing he was beginning to pick up on whenever Peter was around. The teen could actually be pretty _cheeky_ when he wanted to be. Of course, it was usually immediately followed up by a few long-winded apologies, which Tony was quick to brush off. The billionaire was just happy the teen was finally beginning to relax around him. He smirked. "But I don't know, kid. Those seem like some pretty valuable life skills if you ask me."

Peter merely rolled his eyes once again as he continued to follow the billionaire down the halls with the occasional glance over his shoulder. Tony quirked a brow as he tried to recall something. "Aren't you a part of some club thing? Chess? Mathletes?"

"Oh, Decathlon." Peter corrected for him. "Yeah, yeah, I joined around a couple of months ago. I...it's cool. I like it. It's not that hard, plus the kids in there are pretty nice so..." He shrugged his shoulders. Tony paused as they reached the end of the hall, craning his neck to check the next, finding it empty as well. Despite his focuses mainly being concentrated on not getting caught, he was surprised to find that he was listening to everything the kid was saying. He barely even did that with _Pepper!_

Hmm. . . . probably didn't mean anything.

"You go to compete with that thing, right?" He asked, turning to glance back at the teen.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, we're pretty good actually." He paused for a moment. "Well...our team captain's pretty good. H-her name's...Michelle, but we just call her MJ."

Tony quirked a brow as he noticed Peter stutter for the first time in a _while_. He also picked up on the slight shift in his tone at the mention of the name and- _wait!_

. . . . _Michelle_ was a _girl_ name.

The billionaire blinked for another moment before a small devious smile fell onto his face.

 _Oh...this is gonna be good._

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Cafeteria Staff Kitchen**

 **4:14 p.m.**

"Are we even allowed in here?"

"Probably not, but I'm the boss so it's cool. PLus, you're with me so I'm sure you're fine, too."

"Oh...great…"

Peter ducked underneath the tray of carts that whizzed past him, the hustle and bustle of the active kitchen making him shift just a little closer to the billionaire at his side.

Tony was currently swiping a few apples from one of the back walls while simultaneously sparing a glance over by the counters. He watched with a smirk as Pepper and Rhodey walked past, disgruntled looks on their faces as they talked.

Moving back over towards Peter, the man shoved one of the apples into the teen's hands, Peter giving him a small "thank you" as they continued to duck and dodge between chefs and cooks, all of whom gave them annoyed looks.

"Anyway, what were we talking about before?" The man asked, glancing down towards the teen.

Peter furrowed his brow before opening his mouth, only for Tony to cut him off. "Ah, right. The suits. Anyway, I've been toggling with the idea of incorporating some nanotech into the new designs. You know, holding capacitors, conform factors, all that jazz."

Peter tilted his head up in thought. "Well, you wouldn't have to carry around a suitcase all the time to call your suit if you had that."

"Exactly!" Tony scoffed. "Anyway, nanotech's always a little finicky, so it's gonna take some time." He explained.

The teen nodded. "I'd figure as much." He noted, taking a bite of his apple as he continued. "The regime it deals with can't really be defined by either quantum chemistry or the classic laws of physics."

Tony huffed. "Yeah, I know. So it's kinda going to suck trying to configure the collective energies of the suit." He muttered, biting into his own apple before waving the fruit around gesturally. "The electronic states of the matter and the energy levels of all the electronic states are going to have to find some kind of harmony. But of course, the energies of the electronic states depond on-"

"On the 1/L2, the dimension of the system in that particular direction."

Tony spared the boy a small, surprised glance before letting out a small chuckle. "Forgot you're a mega-nerd."

Peter gave him a smile as the teen continued. "Well...the spacing between successive energy levels also varies as 1/L2. Hence the variation in the length scale of a system which will result in a significant change in the energies and the energy separations of the individual electronic states. It deals with particles ranging from 1-100 nanometers, which is about 10 to 1,000,000 atoms or molecules per particle.

Plus, you can't forget that as the size decreases, the energy bands will become substantially narrower than in bulk solid, leading to distortion of normal collective electron properties in the quantum confinement.

Then there's the semiconductors, the structure variations, the magnetic materials, the optical properties, reactivity, and even the heat changes to take into consideration so…"

The boy paused in his rambling when he noticed Tony was no longer walking right alongside him. Stopping, the teen turned back to notice the billionaire staring at him with an incredulous look on his face.

Peter blushed and glanced down towards the floor. "Umm...I've...I've read a few papers on this stuff. Nobody's really come close to actually running any successful trials on this stuff except for a scientist a while ago named Pym and I think there was something about some company up in California trying to replicate some of Pym's work and…" He trailed off awkwardly as he realized Tony was still staring at him.

"Uhh. . . sorry. I know it's weird knowing stuff like this." He murmured, fiddling with his hands nervously.

Tony blinked back into reality at that. Once again, the kid was surprising him with just how much he knew about science and technology and all the crap Tony was always busying himself with. The man let out a small scoff as he placed a hand on his hip. "Well then, I guess it's a good thing I found you." He smirked.

Peter glanced up at him.

"Us weirdos need to stick together." He patted the teen's shoulder before pausing. "Uh...no pun intended."

Peter stared at him for a moment before dropping his gaze once more, letting a smile fall onto his face. "Good, cause that was horrible."

"Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I _did_ intend it, then."

"It's still horrible."

"You wound me, Parker."

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - _Air Vents?_**

 **4:38 p.m.**

"Alright, you know, I'm all for avoiding your problems, but isn't this just a _bit_ much, Mr. Stark?" Peter asked incredulously as he continued to crawl forward.

Tony merely gave a small wave of his hand. "Oh come on. Don't pretend like you're not having fun."

The teen rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, you were telling me about...something?" THe billionaire asked, glancing towards the kid. Luckily the vents in the building were wide enough to accommodate two people side by side. Almost as if it had been built for secret getaways.

Peter huffed. "Sorry, guess I lost track of what I was saying while I was climbing into an air duct for the second time today, something that's apparently a normal occurrence for you."

Tony snorted. "Alright, Sassy Sally. Why don't you go ahead and untangle your curls and drop the 'tude."

The teen blushed and lowered his gaze. "Heh...sorry."

Tony merely gave him a light shove. "I'm just joking kid. You really need to loosen up. Anyways, I asked about what you do when you're not Spider-ing around the city or basking in the light of my presence."

Peter chuckled at that as he continued to crawl across the cold metal surface. "Well, nothing near building suits and running a company and all the cool stuff like that." He murmured before giving a small shrug, or, as close to a shrug as you could get while crawling on your hands and knees. "I don't know. I mostly just tinker in my room with different scraps I find in the dump or I try to configure new ideas to try in my Chem class for stronger web fluid and-"

"Wait a minute...you mean to tell me you made your web fluid...in a high school Chemistry lab?" Tony asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Peter nodded. "Yep, anyway I sometimes also try and come up with some new designs for my web shooters themselves and-"

"Hold up! Are you actually saying you made webs that you rely on to hold your body weight as you swing twenty, thirty stories up in the air...in a room where people fail tests and play with crayons?"

"I. . play with-. . . . how do you think a classroom works?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. Don't you give your teacher an apple or something?"

"Maybe if it was an afterschool special and every group of friends had one ethnic kid in a wheelchair."

"Yeah, I noticed that too. What's up with that?"

Peter laughed and shook his head. "I don't know, but whoever came up with it must have had just as good of a grasp on school as you do."

The billionaire gave the teen a glare. "Alright, Mr. _I Stake My Life On The Dependability Of High-School Chemicals_ , new deal. Any and all web creation will be done here. You know, with _actual_ top-market materials." Tony said mockingly.

The teen gave a small pout before rolling his eyes and nodding his head.

"Good, now you were talking about how boring and meaningless your life is without me. I'd like to revisit that."

Peter smirked. "Well, I don't know about all of that, I mean, I've got plenty of books to keep me company." He continued when Tony gave him a questioning look. "I've got into the classics a little while back. You know, Stephen King, Charles Dickens, Anthony Burgess, stuff like that."

Tony let a small smirk fall onto his face. "Something tell me kids your age aren't swarming the public library, fighting over the last copy of Moby Dick."

Peter gave a small chuckle. "Not usually, no." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Most kids my age don't really care for it anymore, but...I like reading. It...it's like…" He fought to find the right phrasing. "It's like an escape, you know? Just...just something to...to take your mind off of. . . . things."

The billionaire watched as a look washed over Peter's face, one he couldn't quite read. But just as quickly as it had appeared, Peter was shaking his head, letting a small smile fall back onto his face. "Heh...m-my friend, Michelle's a big bookworm too so she let's me borrow most of her stuff. Course, I've read most of them already, so I just kind of cycle through them over and over again. She doesn't mind though."

Tony made sure to take in the small smile that passed over Peter's face at the mention of the girl's name, something the billionaire would be sure to use against him later. "How come you don't just go and get some new books yourself?"

Peter shrugged. "The antiquities bookstore's kind of far from my house and I don't usually have much time to venture over there. The librarian's also a _lot_ scarier than people think. Plus I…" A new blush fell onto his face. "I don't really have any money."

Tony regarded the teen for a second longer before Peter continued. "Umm...do you...read a lot?" He asked, the billionaire quick to notice how uncomfortable the kid now seemed.

Quickly realizing such a topic was one the teen probably didn't wish to discuss, the man decided to play along. "Ehh...not as much as I used to. I'm pretty busy nowadays. After all, how could I possibly let reading get in the way of this?" He asked, gesturing around him at the metal walls surrounding them.

Peter scoffed lightly. "It's...hard to argue with that. Nothing better than crawling through dangerous air ventilation systems."

Tony threw him a light glare. "Oh, don't be a baby. These vents are perfectly saf-"

 **"AHH!"**

Tony's eyes widened as Peter suddenly disappeared from beside him, a newly formed hole now situated in the metal from where the paneling had dropped away. The man simply blinked in shock for a moment before lightly clearing his throat and calling sweetly, "You okay down there, kid?"

. . .

. . .

". . . . . can I please just get you coffee and stale donuts like a normal intern?"

"Yeah. . . that's not really my thing, kid. Now get back up here before we're compromised."

". . . . . . . _sure."_

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Outdoor Rec Area**

 **5:16 p.m.**

"Can we _please_ GOD _just drop this?!_

"What? What's so wrong with asking about your little friends?"

Peter gave the man a small glare as his nose scrunched, quickly resenting the fact that the look on Tony's face said that it only made him look more adorable.

 _Curse_ his baby-face.

Letting out a quick sigh, Peter hunched his shoulders and wrapped his arms around his knees, which were drawn close to his chest. "Look, it's not that big a deal. Like I said before, she's just one of my friends. Well...more like one of the only two people I actually _like_ talking to."

"Ouch."

"At school!" Peter quickly added, flashing the man a nervous grin. Tony, in response, gave the teen a scoff. "Good save." He muttered with a smirk, only to curse under his breath as he and Peter quickly ducked back down from their positions on the ground. The faint sound of the security guard's walkie-talkie echoed above them as the man walked past the snow-covered bush they were currently hiding behind.

After a moment, the fading crunch of snow underneath boots told the two that the guard had walked off once again. Peter let out a small sigh and shook the few flakes of snow from his hair. "I'd just like to say once again that this seems just a _little_ excessive, Mr. Stark." He murmured, glancing back over towards the billionaire.

"Trust me, kid," He started, brushing the snowflakes from his arms. "You don't know pain until you've had to sit through one of those meetings. They literally make you want to bludgeon yourself to death with a spoon."

"That...that kind of seems like an over-exaggeration."

"Oh, it's an _understatement."_

Peter couldn't help the amused huff that fell from his lips as Tony helped him to his feet. The pair was currently making their way through the building's outdoor space, which was mainly just a large plot of land that stretched along the back entrance of the building. The large garden consisted of bare trees and snow-covered plants and bushes. Now that March was dwindling and April was quickly approaching, the snow was beginning to give way for their green counterparts.

Peter let a small smile fall onto his face as he slowly began to move through the bushes and plants, simply breathing in the calming sight as he walked.

Tony watched the kid move off and took a breath as he ran a hand through his hair, casting his eyes towards the sky. The sun shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the snow in a blanket of shining light that stung the eyes while also casting it's bright glow on the tall skyscrapers in the distance.

The billionaire stared out at the sight for a moment, smirk falling from his face as his breath swirled in front of his face like a wisp of magic. Tony let out a small sigh as he lowered his gaze and slowly took a seat on one of the many benches scattered around the garden.

His mind replayed over the words he's spoken just a second ago before a humorless chuckle fell from his lips. He only _wished_ this was all to avoid some meeting. In all honesty, Tony couldn't have cared less about the meeting. Sure, he'd dodged a couple here and there - much to the displeasure of Pepper and Rhodey - but he usually would have relented at this point.

Of course, that would have been _if_ this was all for some meeting. But it wasn't.

It was about what came _after_ the meeting.

The man rested his elbow on a knee as he placed his forehead in his hand. Two nights ago, Rhodes had discovered Tony elbow-deep in _bottles_ upon _bottles_ of alcohol and scotch, relentlessly drowning his depressions. The billionaire hadn't thought anything of it. His nightly escapades had become a common occurrence after...well...after shit went down.

He just hadn't expected anyone to find out about it.

Of course, the man had been too wasted to absorb any lecture or scolding Rhodey could have given him at the time. Instead, the colonel had simply dragged the near-unconscious man to bed, determined to discuss what had happened once he was sober.

Thankfully, Pepper had been away on business for the past few days, so that had bought the billionaire a little time, but of course, now that she was back, both her and Rhodey planned on talking to him about what had happened.

After the meeting.

Well, Tony couldn't have that.

Talking about it meant dealing with it. Dealing with it meant remembering. And remembering was _not_ something he wanted to do. That was why he'd been drinking in the _first goddamn place! To **forget!**_ Why couldn't they just **_fucking_** understand that?!

But he knew. Something in the back of his mind told him he knew exactly why they didn't. It was because he never talked to them about it. So how could they possibly understand? _He_ barely understood.

Tony ran a hand down his tired face. He couldn't talk about it. He just couldn't. Cause if he started, he'd never be able to stop. He'd unleash everything he'd been holding back since the Accords had first been brought up. And that was _not_ something he could do.

He couldn't talk about it . . . . because that meant _feeling_ it. And that would kill him.

The man lifted his gaze just enough to make out Peter a few paces away, a gentle smile adorning the teen's face as he watched a blue jay perch on one of the nearby branches. Tony stared for a moment longer before letting out a small huff of amusement, dropping his head back down once again. Any other time, Tony would have already succumbed to Pepper's wishes to attend the meeting. He'd just have to dodge and deflect as best he could against the combined forces of Pepper and Rhodey afterwards. He _did_ have a lot of practice with it after all.

But, as he'd roamed the tower with the teen, he'd come to notice something.

Peter hadn't stuttered a single time throughout their little escapades. The kid was relaxed. He'd brainstormed with the billionaire freely and happily. He'd rambled on about the dorky things he and his friends would do with little worry. He'd even cracked a few small jokes here and there that had Tony letting out little chuckles. He'd acted like...well...like a _teenager_. It had taken Tony a little while to finally figure it out, but now the man finally understood the reason behind the teen's strange shift in behavior.

He was distracted.

Tony didn't know whether the realization made him relieved or depressed. It was probably a mix of both.

He was relieved at the fact that he was finally beginning to understand how to loosen the kid up. By taking his focus away from his problems and instead letting him draw his attention on things that actually seemed to interest him, the billionaire believed he could finally starting to crack that tough outer shell Peter had created for himself.

Then again, the fact that the kid had to be distracted at _all_ made Tony feel like he'd aged another ten years.

Before he could dwell on the issue any longer, he heard Peter call out to him, the teen walking closer. He noticed a look of slight concern marring the boy's face. _Great, the last thing I need is for this kid to start worrying about me. The whole point is to get him to **stop** worrying, Stark._

Quickly plastering a smirk onto his face, Tony was quick to return a snarky greeting. Peter took a seat next to him as he continued to stare out at the sight before him. "You really should come out here more often, Mr. Stark. You know...when we're _not_ being hunted like dogs by your own employees."

Tony gave a chuckle as he folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah..." He murmured, taking in the sight of the emerging frost-covered flower buds on the numerous plants and bushes around them. "I guess I should."

. . .

. . .

"Do you think she's pretty?"

Peter tilted his head and quirked a brow. ""Hmm? Who?"

"This Michelle girl. Is she pretty?"

"GOD! Mr. Stark!"

"What?" Tony laughed, shoulders shaking merrily as he watched Peter's face turn beet red. "I'm just asking an innocent question. Am I not allowed to be interested in your friends?"

"W-well...I...n-no I g-guess but..." Peter literally felt himself tripping over the words as he fumbled with his hands. "Well, then it shouldn't be any problem." Tony continued, teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I mean, you practically told me your friend Ned's whole life story."

"Well that's...d-different. Ned's... _Ned."_

 _"_ So then what's Michelle?" He leaned closer. "A pretty girl?"

"I _beg_ of you to stop. You need a kidney? I'll _give_ you a kidney. I got one to spare. We'll trade. Kidney for silence. You want the kidney? _Take the kidney._ "

Tony laughed. "Calm down, would you? No, I don't want... _why_ a kidney?"

Peter shrugged. "I have two."

"Mm-hmm...well all you have to do is answer my question and you can keep your kidney." Tony responded, folding his arms over his chest once again. Peter threw the man a pleading look, but once he found the man wasn't going to relent, the teen turned back to the ground, fists clenched around the edge of the bench as his face burned.

"S-s-she...she's...s-she's n...n-not...she's not _not_ p-pretty..."

Tony regarded the teen in silence for a moment before turning forward once more. "Mm-hmm..."

Peter whipped around. "What? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, a new defensive tone edging around his words. It only made Tony chuckle harder. "No, nothing. Nothing at all." He quipped before rising back up to his feet, straightening out his suit as he did so. "Come on, we should keep moving. We _are_ on the run after all." He said before walking off, leaving Peter still sitting with a shell-shocked, embarrassed look on his face.

Tony didn't have to turn back around. He knew Peter would follow.

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Upper Level Roof**

 **5:34 p.m.**

Both Tony and Peter practically leapt through the open doorway before slamming the heavy door shut behind them. Peter could feel his heavy pants turn into laughs as he doubled over, placing his hands on his knees as he struggled to take in a breath.

"You good, kid? You're not gonna keel over on me are ya'?" Tony called, panting beside the teen as he rested his back against the metal door of the roof stairwell. Peter threw up a shaky thumbs up before dropping his hand once more.

After taking another second to catch their breath, Peter lifted his head and finally took in where they actually were. "Whoa..." He breathed out as his eyes widened, his legs taking him towards the railing lining the edge of the roof.

Tony grinned beside him. "Yeah...it's a bit better than the view from _your_ balcony."

A sea of buildings lay scattered before him, each glowing brightly like a billion fireflies lighting the skyscrapers and spires that surrounded them, each dwarfed by the height of the tower they currently stood on. Golden lights shone back at them, twinkling like the stars Peter had never seen, these being the closest he'd ever gotten to them. Rivers of speeding red lights swam through the roads, twisting and curving through the city like a living, breathing entity, reaching out to infinity, where they touched the darkening horizon. The sky was a pale blue, edging towards white. Near the horizon, the colors melted into a warm orange, like spilled paint dripping across the edge of the sky. The soft colors reflected back up into the sky via the distant waters of the Hudson River, acting as a mirror to the softly fading colors.

Peter couldn't help the small huff of disbelief as he stared out at the skyline, hands clutching the railing tightly in awe. "Not bad, huh?" He didn't even notice Tony come to stand next to him. He didn't look at the billionaire as he gave a small nod.

Tony gave a nod of his own as he rested his elbows on the railing and stared out at the scene as well, the pair falling into a lull of silence. It wasn't forced. It wasn't awkward. It was just...silence.

Peter finally pulled his gaze away from the sight, turning back towards Tony, only to pause as he took in the man before him. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, one hand tilted up to support his cheek as he stared out at the skyline. Now that he was really looking at him, Peter could see just how tired the man looked; bags hung under his eyes and his face seemed heavy.

He looked kind of...miserable.

The teen turned away, lowering his gaze towards the floor. He hadn't noticed the man looking so run-down throughout the day. Of course, it was obvious he was pretty good at hiding things so Peter doubted anyone could have been able to tell.

 _Did...did I do this?_ Peter asked himself, the thought making his stomach clench. Mr. Stark _had_ been spending the entire day with him. Peter knew more than anyone that _that_ could exhaust _anyone_. But...as his mind replayed the events of the past few hours, he couldn't pick up on any signs of distress or reluctance coming from the man. So...maybe it was something else.

Peter furrowed his brow. He knew the man had a meeting today. Hell, that's what they'd spent the entire time _avoiding._ But if Peter was being honest, he was pretty sure that wasn't the whole reason for their little escapades. There had to have been something else the billionaire was avoiding. Something else that was bothering him.

The teen knew it could have been a multitude of things. After all, people like Tony Stark never run short on things to worry about. But as he thought through the possibilities, his mind continued to drift back to school, to the conversation they'd held today. The same one they'd been having for nearly a month now.

 _Captain America. The Avengers. The Accords._ Something clicked in the back of Peter's mind as he stole another glance towards the billionaire. _God, you idiot. Of course, it's the Avengers. What else could it be?_

Obviously this whole mess with the Avengers and the government was taking a toll on the man. Heck, he had to hear about it at school almost everyday and it annoyed _him._ And he wasn't even a part of this! Tony Stark was right in the middle of it. Worse, it involved people Peter assumed he'd thought of as friends. Maybe even family.

Peter thought back to nearly a month ago, when he'd first seen Mr. Stark after Siberia. After his fight with Captain America. He remembered the bruises on his face. The look in his eyes. He could still remember it vividly.

The teen thought of Ned and MJ. Never in a million years would the boy _ever_ think they could be capable of hurting him. They were his friends. He loved them.

He wondered if Mr. Stark had thought the same think of Steve Rogers.

"What happened with Captain America?"

The words were out of his mouth before his brain could even register them...let alone _stop_ them.

Tony was obviously startled by them, whipping around to face the teen. "What?" He asked, his voice eerily calm, his face unreadable.

Once his brain decided to stop malfunctioning, Peter's eyes widened as he took in the gravity of what he'd just asked. "Oh, god. I - _shit_ \- I...I-I I'm s-so...so sorry, Mr. S-Stark. I...that's a r-really p-p-personal question a-and...and I-I...I don't know w-what I was think- I just..." He raised his shaking hands out before him. "y-you don't h...h-have to answer t-that...I mean...i-I'm w-way out of...out of l-line and I-"

"Would you cool your jets, kid?" Tony snapped, his tone much harsher than he'd intended, revealed in the way Peter flinched back and wrapped his shaking arms around himself. Tony opened his mouth to continue, only to force his jaw shut to allow himself a calming breath. He could honestly say the question had definitely caught him off guard, but the last thing he wanted was to destroy all of the progress he'd made with the teen today.

The billionaire continued to stare at the teen, whose eyes were still locked on the ground. After a moment, he turned away and ran a hand down his face, letting out a deep sigh as his hand moved to rub the back of his neck. _I don't want to do this._ He knew that. He knew he didn't. And he didn't have to. That was the kicker. He didn't have to. This wasn't Pepper or Rhodey. This wasn't Bruce or some trained psychiatrist. This was a fourteen-year-old kid he'd met only around a month ago.

This was a kid he'd somehow decided to make his problem. This was a kid with more issues than Tony knew how to handle. This was a kid that Tony knew would bring a _multitude_ of said problems his way. Problems he didn't need. Problems he didn't want. Problems he didn't have to burden himself with. Problems...he really couldn't handle right now. Not when he had so many of his own.

That in itself was another reason not to tell the teen. Just because _he_ was burdened with the problems of others as well as his own didn't mean the boy had to as well. Peter didn't need _his_ problems. He had his own to handle. He didn't need to know the things Tony did. Not to mention the fact that Tony didn't even _want_ to discuss the things he knew.

And yet...

The billionaire cast the kid a small glance. It was safe to say that Peter had been _much_ different today than any of the others. Tony knew that was partially his doing. He'd allowed himself to become a distraction for the teen. Something to help him forget. And yet, while he knew that was a major factor in the boy's shift in demeanor, Tony knew there was something else there. Something else had made Peter act so much more open with him.

The teen had been trying.

Tony could see it now. In the small jokes the teen had made. The slight cheekiness he'd express whenever Tony gave him a little sass. The trying smiles and desperate chuckles.

Peter had been _trying_ to make himself comfortable. He'd been trying to get himself to open up just a little more. He'd been trying to allow Tony _in_...just a little bit. And while the billionaire could tell they were _far_ from any real progress on that front, he knew it was a start.

Tony let out another tired sigh as he dropped his hand back down to his side, turning back towards the teen, who still refused to meet his gaze. He couldn't just let this day go to waste. Not with the progress they'd made. Not when Peter had been trying so hard to make said progress.

Tony felt a new realization bloom in the back of his mind. If he was ever going to get Peter to trust him, he had to show the kid that trust first. It was a two-way street after all.

The billionaire licked his lips in deliberation, hesitating for a moment longer before a new determination set in his eyes.

If he wanted Peter to let him in, he'd have to let the kid in _first._

Peter flinched back violently as Tony rested a hand on his shoulder, the movement making the billionaire rear back slightly. As he met Peter's fearful gaze, the teen's face went red and his eyes lowered, Tony taking it as his sign of submission as he placed his hand on the teen's arm once more, Peter resisting the urge to shrug it off again.

"You know...I never really _did_ explain it to you when I recruited you, did I?" He asked, making sure to keep his voice low and steady.

Peter hesitantly met his gaze before shaking his head.

"Yeah...then I guess an explanation is long overdue anyways." He murmured. Peter shook his head, dropping his eyes to the floor once again. "You...you don't have to do this, M-Mr. Stark." He whispered out meekly.

Tony took in the teen's words in a moment of hesitation. _You really don't_.

. . .

. . .

 _Yes...yes I do._

"Yeah, I do."

Peter watched as Tony turned back to stare out at the skyline, his arms resting on the railing once again. Peter mimicked the action after a moment.

"Well...I'm assuming you've heard of the Accords."

The teen nodded his head. "Yeah, we talk about them in class a lot."

"Then you know what they were about."

He nodded once again. "They said the Avengers would be placed under the supervision of the UN to safeguard the wants and needs of the public while also maintaining peace and assuring safety through more control."

Tony gave a nod of his own. "Yeah, well...apparently not all of us... _agreed_ on those terms." He muttered out before reminding himself to stay calm. "Only half of us ended up signing. Cap and a few of the others refused." He explained, choosing his words carefully as he debated just how much he wanted to share with the kid.

Peter listened on in silence, wide eyes staring straight into the man.

"Anyway, three days later, there was that bombing at the UN meeting."

"In Vienna?"

"Mm-hmm." Tony nodded. "Police identified the bomber as The Winter Soldier." He watched Peter give an afirmative nod. No doubt the teen had seen it on the news. Everyone had seen it.

"Yeah...I kind of kicked him off a balcony..."

Oh right. The teen had fought him too.. . . . Tony didn't really know how he felt about that.

"Well, it certainly didn't help that the Winter Soldier, or James Barnes happened to be Cap's best friend during the war."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Yeah...I remember reading about him. He was an assassin for...H-Hydra?" He stuttered, trying to recall the name.

Tony gave another nod. "Anyway, after that little skirmish in Leipzig, I went after Cap and Barnes. After all, it was either me, or a government kill squad." He muttered. "And..." He paused debating on how much he wished to truly reveal. "Some...some pretty bad shit went down." He sighed, turning to gaze back at Peter.

The teen's gaze was currently locked on the floor, his face hard in thought, lips parted slightly. "So...they...they just... _left_ you there? They just _bailed_ on you?" He asked incredulously. "I...I don't understand. How...why...w-why the hell would they do that?" He asked, Tony noticing a hint of anger edging the teen's words. "I...you were just trying to help them."

Okay... _that_ left a bad taste in Tony's mouth.

"No, I-" Tony paused. Just _what_ was he planning on saying. _Nope. It was on me kid. I lost my temper and threw the first punch. My bad! Don't blame this on Cap. He's totally innocent here!_

He eyes hardened and his jaw tensed. "It's...complicated."

That wasn't good enough for Peter. "Wha...what's complicated about it? You were trying to do the right thing and he repayed you by..by trying to kill you? He's not the victim here! You a-"

"Peter!" Tony shouted, fists clenching at his sides. The teen instantly flinched at the hard tone. "It's not...it's not like that." He whispered, voice unsteady.

Scratch what he'd said before. _All_ of this left a bad taste in his mouth. How could it not when he was basically creating an anti-Cap minion right here and now.

After all, it was hard to ignore the fact that when he'd recruited Peter, he'd conveniently left out Cap's side of the argument, instead deciding to explain how he'd simply broken the law. Tony honestly couldn't say what side Peter would have been on had he heard both sides of the story. He really didn't _want_ to think about that.

He glanced over at Peter, the teen turning to look at him as well. Just by looking in his eyes alone, Tony could see the raw purity in the kid's gaze. The praise he felt for Tony. The admiration. It was obvious Peter didn't assume Tony had done any wrong. So far, all he knew was that Captain America had gone crazy. To Peter, Steve was the bad guy.

Maybe that's what Tony wanted...

He'd be lying if he said it didn't feel nice to speak to someone who didn't at _all_ hold him accountable for the mess that was the Accords and the Rogue Avengers. And he knew that if he just continued on with that story, continued to tell Peter the barest of details, that Cap had simply gone crazy, that that admiration, that praise, that look - absent of all hate and judgement - would remain.

But for how long? How long until Peter heard the truth, heard both sides of the story? He'd inevitably realize that Tony had been lying to him. And it wouldn't just be the look that disappeared, it would be Peter himself. The kid would never trust him then.

Tony scrunched his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a deep, regretful sigh.

No...he had to tell him the truth.

He'd have to let Peter decide for himself whether he deserved that look of admiration.

"It's not like that...because I'm the one that threw the first punch."

Peter reared back in shock, brows furrowing as his lips parted. "What?" He whispered in disbelief.

Tony rubbed the side of his face. "Barnes, he...he did some bad stuff, kid. I mean...I mean some really bad stuff. And I was...I was angry. I knew he'd been used. I knew he'd been brainwashed. I knew he didn't have full control of his actions. But...i was just..." He paused. "I was just _so angry_." He realized.

"So...I threw the first punch. And we fought. It...it was bad, kid." He sighed, resting back on the railing once again as he lowered his gaze. "After...after the fight, neither one of us looked good. We were both pretty fucked up. Anyway, Cap left. He and the others...they're gone." He explained, resisting the urge to steal a glance towards Peter.

He just wanted to remember that look of praise in his eyes for as long as possible before he had to accept the new one that had to have replaced it by now.

"I...this entire mess...in a sense, we all had a hand in it. None of us were innocent. We were all responsible. So...so don't go writing Cap off as the bad guy, kid. Cause..." He sighed.

"Cause I'm just as bad as he is. Maybe worse"

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

"No."

Tony blinked in shock at the simple word, turning to look at Peter, only to rear back in surprise. The teen's fists were clenched tightly by his sides, eyes narrowed into thin slits as he glared back at Tony. He'd never seen the kid look so mad before.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but that's _bullshit!"_

...or _sound_ so mad before.

Peter let out a small breathy laugh, one Tony knew held no joy. "You want to stand there and tell me that you're just as bad as Captain America. NO! That you're _worse_ than him? I mean, a-are you _fucking_ serious?!" He growled out, teeth grinding.

"Yeah, I read about the Accords. Even I can tell they aren't perfect. But that doesn't mean you abandon them, doesn't mean you choose your fists instead of words. Not when that means the Avengers are disbanded. No. You work through it. You compromise. That's how this world works! We're not in 1945 anymore! The world isn't black and white. It's not America: good, Nazis: bad!" He scoffed, hands flailing wildly as he spoke. "This world, _today_ the only way to get anywhere is through compromise! That's the only way things will ever get done!"

Tony stood in shell-shocked silence as Peter continued, the teen running a hand through his hair. "And...and I know you made a mistake, Mr. Stark. But if we're being honest, _everyone_ did. Everyone has something to feel guilty about. The only difference is that you're standing right here. Right _fucking_ here! You're not off hiding in some safe house like a coward, shielding yourself from the destruction _you_ caused!" He snarled, his words filled with venom.

"You actually stayed to make things work. Meanwhile, Captain America fled at the first sign of trouble. _You_ stayed to _fix_ your mistake. He didn't. He left! He left _you!_ He left you alone to die back there!" The teen was practically screaming now.

"I mean...I...I thought you guys were friends. Family! How could..." He trailed off for a moment. "How...how could he just leave? You...you don't do that to your friends, your...your family." His fists shook. "No. No, Mr. Stark! Don't you try and convince me that you're somehow worse than Steve Rogers, alright? Because at the end of the day, he's the one who abandoned you...abandoned all of us, and _you_ ' _re_ the one who stayed! You're the one who's fixing all of their messes! You're the one who's actually _**trying!"**_

Tony stared at the teen with wide eyes, his mouth slightly ajar as he struggled to form words. Meanwhile, as Peter fought to gain control over his breathing once again, the anger began to slowly seep from his bones.

Very quickly being replaced with disbelief.

He blinked in shock as he raised a shaky hand to his mouth, the other clutching his stomach tightly. "I...I-I...oh, god. I'm I-i'm so...s-so sorry Mr. Stark. I...I don't...I don't k-know what c-came...came over me." He panicked, waving his hand wildly in front of him. "I-I I totally o-overstepped m...my bounds and...a-and I-"

"Hey, hey, hey..." Tony breathed, finally able to speak once again. "Take a breath, kid." He murmured quietly, watching as Peter rubbed at his collarbone, cheeks red as he took in a shaky breath. Tony stared at the teen for a moment longer, taking in the shocking sight before him as for a minute, the two simply just stared at each other, neither sure of what to say.

Finally, Peter broke the silence as he grimaced slightly. "You're...not mad?" He whispered meekly.

Tony couldn't help the scoff that fell from his lips at that. Figures the teen would be worried about him being mad after he literally just defended him to the heavens and beyond. "If anything, I'm more surprised." He muttered before letting a small smirk fall onto his face. "I didn't even know you knew how to curse."

Peter blinked up at the man or a moment before letting out a small laugh. "Yeah well...that just makes it all the more effective."

Tony hummed his amusement as he placed an arm around the teen, a small spark of joy twinging in his chest when he felt the kid quickly relax after tensing. The two turned back to the railing, the sky now a deep shade of lavender as the sun lowered towards the horizon.

"You are one strange kid, you know that?"

Peter gave a small smile. "Yeah, well...I guess that's a good thing." He shrugged. "If I was normal, I wouldn't be here with you." Tony glanced down at him as he continued. "So you know...silver linings."

The billionaire stared down at him for a quizzical second before letting out a light chuckle. "Yeah. . . . silver linings."

The pair continued to stare out at the skyline for a while, time passing without them even realizing it, which is what made Rhodey tackling Tony to the ground all the more shocking.

Peter yelped in surprise as he watched the colonel basically wrestle the billionaire to the ground, Pepper pushing her way through the heavy roof door at the same time. "Geez, I didn't think you were actually serious." Peter heard her mutter as she stared at the two men.

Meanwhile, Tony looked to be having a grand old time as he stared up at the fuming lieutenant. "Hey, Rhodey. What's up, man?" He greeted casually, a mischevious glint in his eyes. "You seem a little tense.

"Oh shut up, you son of a bitch." Rhodes practically snarled, though even Peter could tell Tony wasn't phased at _all_ by the harshness of the man's words. "Do you know how long we've been looking for you?" He asked. Tony smirked at him. "Probably the same amount of time I've been hiding from you." He quiped. "Ah, correction: _we"_

Both Pepper and Rhodey turned to glance at Peter, who gave a small, nervous wave. The colonel rolled his eyes. "Did you really have to go and corrupt the kid?" He muttered.

Tony shrugged as Rhodes hauled him to his feet. "It's in the job description."

"He's an intern."

"It's in the... _intern_ description?"

Peter chuckled in the corner.

Pepper stalked over to him, meeting his nonchalant gaze with a look that Peter assumed held the fires of _Hell_. "You and I are going to be having a _very, very_ long conversation after this meeting." She whispered out. Tony rolled his eyes. "Great. Can't wait." He muttered as Rhodes began to practically drag him to the door. "You know these board directors have been waiting for you _all_ day? If you thought they were grumpy before, just wait until you see them now." The man snapped.

Pepper shook her head as she watched the two men disappear through the door before turning back towards Peter, who shrugged his shoulders. The woman rolled her eyes and extended a hand towards the teen. Peter only hesitated for a moment before accepting it. "You don't mind waiting for a little while, do you Peter? Something tells me your _boss_ is going to be pretty busy for the next few hours." She all but growled.

Peter gave an amused nod. "Y-yeah...I'll be fine. Although, I'm assuming I can't say the same for Mr. Stark."

"You assume correctly."

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 23, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Waiting Lounge**

 **6:25 p.m.**

Peter let out a small sigh as he closed the book, finishing it for the third time in that month alone. Flipping it back to the front, the teen glanced down at the cover _East of Eden_ by Jon Steinbeck. He could honestly say it was becoming one of his favorites. He'd have to ask Michelle if she had any more of his works.

The teen glanced up, scanning the lounge for a moment. He hadn't heard hide nor hair from Pepper, Rhodey _or_ Tony, though he assumed the latter had been dragged to the pits of _Hell,_ never to be seen again.

Letting out another sigh, flapping his lips in the process, the teen turned back to the book and flipped to page one _._ _Might as well start over. Again._

Before he could even get halfway through the first chapter, though, he heard the door to the room swing open. Before he could even look up, he was being hauled to his feet. A startled yelp fell from his lips as he regained just enough sense to grab his backpack before he found himself being dragged down the hall, close to the point of practically being carried.

He whipped his head up, though he pretty much already knew who it was. " _Mr. Stark?"_ He called incredulously. "What...what are you doing?!"

"I'm kidnapping you."

"Wh-"

Before he could even form a coherent thought, he heard loud shouts coming from farthr down the hallway. Craning his neck to glance past the billionaire's shoulders, he could just make out Pepper and Rhodey standing in shock from down the hall. And they sounded _pissed._

"Am I your leverage?"

"Yep!"

Peter sighed. "Did you skip your meeting?"

Tony snorted. "No, I went."

"Oh."

"I skipped our post-meeting scolding."

"Oh."

The next few minutes consisted of Peter being dragged into the elevator, with Tony ordering FRIDAY to ban its access to Pepper or Rhodey until they were safely out of the building. Peter didn't ask. He wasn't sure he wanted an answer.

Quickly finging himself in a parking garage, he continued to get dragged around until Tony was plopping him down in the passenger seat of a car that Peter was willing to bet cost more than his entire school, people included.

"Umm...am I allowed to know where we're going?" Peter asked cautiously, glancing at Tony as the man sped out of the garage. The man threw him a knowing smirk. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I was afraid you'd say that."

All in all, the drive didn't take longer than maybe ten minutes. Though, with the speed Tony was driving at, Peter was sure they could have gotten _anywhere_ in ten minutes, regardless of distance. Throughout the drive, Tony mostly complained about his meeting, Peter choosing to remain silent, save for the occasional laugh. He was content with just listening.

The car came to a screeching halt which sent Peter jolting forward, his face slamming painfully into the dashboard. The teen covered his face with his hands as he groaned in pain. Tony hissed besides him. "Yeah...in hindsight, I probably should have reminded you to put your seat belt on...hmm...am I a responsible mentor yet?"

Peter gave a shaky thumbs up.

"Cool."

After taking a minute to make sure nothing in his _frikkin_ face was broken, Peter lifted his head to find Tony already out of the car, standing next to his door. The teen gave him a small quizzical look before stepping out of the car as well, lifting his head to see where they were.

The expensive car was parked in the curb right outside a large, antique building, one Peter regocnized instantly. "I...w-what are we doing here?" He asked, turning back towards Tony. The man gave a small shrug. "You said you needed some new books, right?"

"Y-yeah, but-"

"Well here you go. Problem solved." the man claimed nonchalantly, folding his arms over his chest. The billionaire fully expected the teen to go rushing towards the store, his excitement bubbling through his body. However, Tony could honestly say he was surprised when Peter made no such move, instead choosing to fiddle with his hands as he lowered his gaze.

"Y-you don't...you don't h-have to do this, Mr. Stark." He murmured quietly.

Tony blinked down at the teen before letting a small grimace fall onto his face as he realized how this must have looked to the kid. More likely than not, Peter probably saw this as a form of charity, an act of pity. The man bit the inside of his cheek in thought before letting another smirk fall onto his face.

"I also didn't have to play hooky all day with my intern, but...I don't know...I guess today's the day for trying new, slightly crazy, things." He quipped, placing an arm around Peter's shoulders. "Besides, I guess I _could_ use a few more books in my own collection." He murmured with a wink to Peter. "Can't hang out in the air vents _all_ day after all. Plus, now you have a bodyguard to protect you from the _menace_ that is the sweet, old librarian who- _holy shit..._ is she... is she _glaring_ at us already? We aren't even _inside_ yet!"

Peter let out a knowing chuckle as he continued to debate whether or not to take the man up on his offer, the teen's face revealing his lingering hesitations. "So...got anything you recommend?" The billionaire asked. That seemed to be enough to dissolve any remaining doubts in the boy as a large grin split his face.

Quickly wrapping a small hand around Tony's arm, the teen all but dragged the man up the steps, jumbled ramblings falling out of his mouth at how much the man was going to love the books inside.

As Tony felt himself getting dragged into the store, albeit with the beady eyes of the demon-lady behind the counter trailing them, he couldn't help the strange feeling settling into the pit of his stomach, curling around his chest, something that had been present ever since Peter's little outburst on the roof. _Maybe you're taking this too far..._ He wondered to himself. _Maybe...maybe this is a bit too much..._

It wasn't that much of a stretch. After all, Peter's little rant had only reinforced the fact that Tony had a whole mess of problems he still had to deal with. Now pile on the problems _Peter_ was bringing to the table, and they were looking at a full-blown disaster. And yet, as the billionaire watched Peter become engrossed in his surroundings, a huge dorky grin splitting his face, Tony found himself doing something he hadn't been able to do since Siberia.

He relaxed.

He didn't think about Ross. He didn't think about the continuous cycle of new and revised Accords he continuously had to go over. He didn't think about Cap, the Avengers, the betrayal.

No, right now...all he cared about was finding a good book to read, with some input from the bubbling teen bouncing at his side.

* * *

 **GUESS WHO'S ON SUMMER BREAK, BITCHES?!**

 **You know, I** _did_ **have this chapter done yesterday like the schedule said, but the power went out in my place last night so I couldn't post anything so don't blame me. Blame Florida and it's horrible weather. It is Hurricane Season after all.**

 **So, I know this chapter is a little different from my others. There's not a lot of plot here, but I was happy about finally being out on break so I give you a big ol' pile of FLUFF! Hooray! Not even I can take continuous streams of angst all the time. (She said while still including some nice angsty moments) What? It's in my blood. I'm a teenager!**

 **Anywhoo...thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: _Actual-Drendel, BloodyRose-97, Little Doctor, MovallErik, Trinix216, purplechic13, 1000, wolflight11, Izchicuautli, NotCurrent, WriterFanatic5000, alabe987, hey soy yo, hphgrwfanatic, plomieniefeniksa, Booksandshelves, Kowzgomoo911, Seawell, rmitchell048, Cressi13, Fanficlove23, Sola Ignis, WinterAlice, ZaneLoverFan88, glorferrep8, rosecircle79, BookBasedPrincess, JinxTheOwl, writer168, Depressioncat, OniHika68, PurpleGoddess, pichupal, scc4, E.J. Dovling, Sabeloid, givivar874, ironiespider, Ibunny219, ssvyy, Luckais, polkacriss, 1fastreader 18, Bluebox345, StarStepper, chelseaweiman13, Strange-Charms, Hakkai Suiren, Dolphin02, Techgirl12, SamKItchen875, cucumbersaregreen, Warai-san; AnduriloofTolkien, BloodyRose-97, Dimensional Phaser, ScruffydaDruid, buckynat1991, dabuka, CGFlare, Bishi-bishi, FrenchHistorianGirl, Techgirl12_**

 **Reviews:**

 **Nindragon: Wonderful, I think it's becoming my main goal to make everyone who reads this to have some sort of an emotional breakdown. I dream about it now.**

 **Qwertyweirdo: Yep, be prepared to LOVE Mondays now! Well here's some wonderful fluff for you all to choke on. It should help in soaking up all your tears from the last few chapters.**

 **A ndurilofTolkien: Gracias**

 **throughoutwinter: That's the plan ;)**

 **Being Muggle: Well here, you get a full chapter of fluffy adorableness so you're welcome XD**

 **A Frozen Shadow: Welp, I'm planing on having this story being around over 40 chapters or so. It's going to be a _very_ long plot of time so they've got lots of time to figure this shit out.**

 **Onlyinitforthestories2 : Oh, man. If you thought that last one was long...**

 **Rosie dragoneel: Well...thank you, but also NO THANK YOU XD Thanks man, I always try to evoke somee sort of emotional response from my readers whenever I'm making stories like this one. Hope you continue to enjoy it**

 **Phoenixhp5 : Ha, this one's even larger than that last one! You are very welcome, my little sheep. Well here's some Peter, Tony fluff for you to play in. Enjoy!**

 **RosettaQueen20 : Yeah, more Pepper! You should also get more Rhodey in the next one as well. I was originally planning on including it in this chapter, but it was already getting pretty long so I'll just include it in the next chapter. **

**Toni42 : Thanks man. I'll be honest, I was a little hesitant to include that cause I didn't know whether or not it was good. But now that I know it's getting such a positive response, I'll be sure to continue with that pattern. Don't worry, you'll understand more about Richard, the experiments and his powers as the story progresses. Also, Peter _is_ fourteen in this story. He's a little younger than the canon version, but I'm planning on having this story span a long amount of time so I didn't want Peter to get _too_ old so I made him a little younger to begin with. **

**Ammy of Asgard: Yeah...Richard's only gonna get worse so...**

 **curry-llama : Yep...gotta love those dick jokes**

 **LOST in the supermarket: Ahh Tony...such a wonderfully adorable moron. **

**guacamole lover: I know! I'm horrible for hurting our Spider-baby! HEY! NEver mention that scene from Infinity War! Just don't! That broke me, man! Jeez, man! Don't rag on my wonderful narcissist! He's going through a lot. Though he is _trying_ with Peter, unlike most of the adults in the teen's life. You know, I actualy would love to publish a novel one day. Maybe once ai get a little more experience.**

 **Seawell : Yeah same. Luckily for me, I'm on summer break now so that helps. **

**WinterAlice: Yes! That's right! Cry! Cry my little sheep! HAHAH!...I'm sorry. Thanks for notifying me on that. I was sure to fix it after you notified me so don't be afraid to make little comments like that. They only better my writing. **

**StarStepper: Jeez, that's a lot of writing. Aww..thank you, man. That means a lot to me. I absolutely _love_ it when people leave me large paragraphs to read in the comments. It just shows that they care enough to write so much and I LOVE reading all these comments so don't be afraid to just rant. Also, you don't have to worry. I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon. **

**Paulina: ****Gracias. No te preocupes No planeo detenerme pronto.**


	8. Incubus

**Chapter 8: Incubus**

* * *

 _Peter's eyes snapped open as the sound of a loud boom pierced his ears. The child sat up in his bed and rubbed at his eyes, a small yawn bubbling past his lips. Taking a second to adjust himself, the four-year-old grasped for the teddy-bear lying next to him as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of his room._

 _Thankfully, his star-shaped nightlight was still glowing brightly in the corner, illuminating the room just enough for him to make out the corners of the walls and the outlines of his furniture._

 _Before the child could begin to wonder what it was that had awoken him, he heard another boom sound from outside._

 _The child whipped his head towards the window and noticed that it was pouring down rain, the thick black drops clinging to his window, staining the glass a cold, inky color. He whimpered and clutched his bear tighter as another BOOM sounded. However, that one sounded...funny. It wasn't as thunderous as the other ones. It sounded_ sharper _. More like a_ BANG.

 _Before the toddler could listen for the sound again, his door swung open. The sudden action made the child jump in shock before he realized it was just his mommy. However, any sense of ease that had begun to form was quickly extinguished when he saw the look on his mommy's face._

 _She looked scared._

 _"M'my?" Peter mumbled sleepily._

 _Mary rushed over to him and ran a hand through his hair, plastering a small, quivering smile onto her face. Peter noticed that it was bruised and bloodied. Had Mommy fallen down? He did that sometimes. Did she need him to kiss the boo-boos?_

 _Before he could ask her, she was lifting him out of his bed and carrying him towards the door. Another BOOM rolled from the clouds outside._

 _"Where we goin', Mommy?" The child asked, a new sense of excitement filling him, driving out whatever sleepiness that had lingered. His Mommy never let him stay up so late. Were they gonna do something fun?_

 _"We're gonna go on a little trip, sweetie." Mary said, her voice breaking slightly. Peter could feel her shivering as she held him close. Was she cold? The child looked around and noticed that his Daddy wasn't anywhere to be seen. He was coming with them, right? Peter liked it when they all went on trips together. Mommy and Daddy didn't fight._

 _He loved it when they didn't fight._

 _"Is Daddy coming?" He asked with a smile as they made it down to the first floor._

 _Mary gave the boy a frantic look before shaking her head, plastering on another smile. "No, baby. Daddy's busy right now." At the boy's upset face, she continued. "But we might meet him later, alright?"_

 _Another weird-sounding BOOM rang out around the house. Only this time, Mary ducked down to the floor, clutching Peter to her chest as tightly as she could, acting almost as a shield to the boy. Peter squirmed in her grasp. She was hugging him too tightly._

 _Before he could voice his irritation, however, Mary was back on her feet, nearly sprinting towards the front door. However, Peter felt his mother give a sharp gasp as she stopped suddenly. Peter lifted his head and noticed she was staring at something. Craning his neck to follow her gaze, Peter noticed a dark figure standing by the front door, the shadows of the darkened house hiding their face. The child also noticed the shadowed stranger had something in his hand. Something shiny. Something he was now pointing straight at them._

 _Just as suddenly as they'd stopped, Mary was sprinting again, Peter bouncing in her grasp as she ran. "Mommy! I don't like this game!" Peter wailed as more and more weird BOOMS rang out around the house. It was too loud. He didn't like it. It was loud, and his Mommy was scared._

 _Now_ he _was scared, too._

 _Before he could say anything else, he felt his Mommy slow down. Mary let out harsh, heavy pants as she stopped by the hallway closet. Wrenching open the door, she all but practically_ threw _the four-year-old inside before closing the door behind them, Peter letting a pained whine sound in his throat._

 _Mary was by his side in an instant, gently shushing him as she carded a hand through his curls. "Shh, shh, shh, baby. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay." She whispered, a new, calmer smile adorning her lips. Peter slowly quieted down, small tears dripping from the corners of his eyes. "Now listen to me, Peter. We're going to play a new game, alright. It's like Hide and Seek. You're going to hide in this closet and not make a single sound, okay. You're going to be really quiet. You think you can do that for Mommy?"_

 _The child let a grin fall onto his face as he nodded his head in excitement._

 _Mary let out a small laugh as she grasped the boy's small hands, pressing them against her lips as tears streamed down her face. Now Peter was confused again. "Why are you sad, Mommy?"_

 _Mary simply continued to smile. "I'm not sad, sweetie. I...I'm happy. I'm happy that you're safe." She breathed before wrapping her arms around the child, bringing him into a tight hug as more silent tears streamed down her face. She buried her head into his curls, placing a kiss against the boy's forehead. "Peter, listen to me." She said softly, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "I need you to remember something. No matter what happens, no matter what anybody says, I need you to know that I love you with all my heart, baby."_

 _Tears dripped down onto Peter's cheeks, the child staring up at the crying woman with wide, confused eyes._

 _"I love you, and nothing is ever going to change that." She whispered before raising a shaky hand. Peter looked down and noticed that his mother's pinkie finger was extended towards him. "Promise me, Peter. Promise me you'll always remember that."  
_

 _The toddler stared at the shaking hand before lifting his own, smiling brightly as he intertwined his finger with his mothers. "I will, Mommy." He beamed. "You're acting silly." He giggled as he wiped the moisture off his cheeks. "Can we play this game again in the morning?" He asked with wide eyes._

 _Mary let a fresh wave of tears spill out over her cheeks, but her smile never wavered as she combed a hand through the child's hair. "Of course, sweetie. W-whatever you want." She murmured, shutting her eyes tightly as she let out a shaky breath. Slowly, the woman rose up to her feet as she grasped at the coats hanging above Peter's head. Quickly repositioning them so that they concealed the child from view, the woman turned towards the door._

 _Peter could see his Mommy's chest shaking as she breathed. Mary looked back at him one last time and gave a shaky smile before quickly opening the door, stepping out before closing it once again, leaving the child by himself in the darkness._

 _Peter was instantly greeted with the sound of those weird BOOMS once again, only this time, they were painfully loud. The child raised his hands and cupped them over his ears as he tried to block out the harsh noises. Eventually, the child couldn't differentiate between the loud thunderous BOOMS from the raging storm outside and the sharp BANGS coming from right outside the door._

 _Peter didn't know when, but at some point he'd started to cry. He didn't like this game anymore. He wanted his Mommy to come back. He wanted her to be happy, smiling as she held him, telling him everything would be okay as she rocked him back and forth._

 _BOOMMM!_

 _He wanted to see his Daddy happy, too. Daddy had been sad for a while. Sad and grumpy. Mommy said Daddy was just a little tired and sometimes it made him sick. But he never heard Daddy sneeze like he did when he was sick. Maybe grown-ups got a different kind of sick. He'd have to ask his Mommy when she came back._

 _BANG! BANG!_

 _More tears began to stream down his face as he openly cried, soft whimpers falling from his face as the loud noises shot through the air, piercing through his skull painfully. He hated storms. They were always too loud. But this one was worse. This was louder than any of the others._

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

 _He scooted back as far as he could, his back hitting the wall as he sobbed, his cries getting louder and louder as he began to call for his Mommy to come back. He didn't like this game anymore. He wanted his Mommy. Where was his Mommy?!_

 ** _CRRAAACCCKKKKK!_**

 _Peter nearly leapt off of the floor at the horrendously loud clap of thunder that had rolled through the air, shaking the entire house. He sat in silence for a moment, blinking in the darkness as he waited for more BANGS to ring out._

 _He waited a minute._

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _Two..._

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _Three..._

 _. . ._

 _None came._

 _All he could hear was the sound of rain hitting the roof of their building, the soft hiss of water running along the walls. The child bit his lip as he wrapped his arms around himself, unsure of what to do. He wanted to go and see his Mommy, but she'd told him to wait here. He didn't want to make Mommy angry._

 _However, after another five minutes had passed of no movement whatsoever, Peter slowly rose up to his feet. He didn't care about winning the game anymore. He just wanted to see his Mommy._

 _Quietly, Peter stepped over the different shoes that lined the floor of the closet as he made his way over to the door. Stretching his little arm up, the toddler wrapped tiny fingers around the handle of the door and grunted with effort as he pushed it open._

 _"Mommy?" He called, having expected to see the woman standing right outside the door, waiting for him. When he saw no such thing, the child hugged himself tightly and began to slowly move down the hallway. Thunder could still be heard rolling outside, each crack making Peter wince and walk faster as he searched for the woman._

 _As the child trudged down the hall, his eyes began to adjust once more to the lack of lighting in the house. He was able to make out the disarray around him. hallway tables were overturned. Picture frames lay cracked and shattered on the floor, and streaks of color were smeared over the walls. Peter blinked at the harsh red coloring of the markings, a new sense of worry bubbling in his stomach. Someone drew on the walls? Weren't they going to get in trouble for that? He would if he ever did. He hoped his Mommy didn't think he did this._

 _"Mommy?!" He called again, now even more agitated and nervous than before. He could feel new frustrated tears welling up in his eyes as he quickly began to pick up the pace with each passing second, so much so that he was nearly running when he finally made it to the living room._

 _He froze in his tracks when he caught sight of the room._

 _The table was broken and lay in pieces on the floor. The TV screen was cracked, a harsh bright glow flickering on and off as the machine fought to stay alive, illuminating the room in a startlingly bright light while simultaneously casting darkened shadows around the room._ _The walls were cracked and darkened, different holes littering the surface on each wall around the room. Even the carpet was now messy and stained, puddles of dark red splattered across it._

 _Of course, the biggest puddle was in the center, stemming from the limp body now laying on the floor._

 _BOOM!_

 _Peter stared wide-eyed at the scene, unsure of what do to. Hesitantly, the child began to make his way towards the center of the room, his legs seeming to move as if independent from his body._

 _He could feel his chest slowly heaving as he tried to suck in a breath, tiny fingers curling into the hem of his pajamas. Small, bare feet inched closer, stopping when his toes sunk into the wet carpet._

 _BOOM! CRACK!_

 _Slowly, the child looked down at the sight by his feet. The figure lay unmoving as the flickering TV cast periodic bright flashes of light onto the still form. Limbs were sprawled out randomly as if they'd simply collapsed to the floor suddenly. And in the center of their chest, there were three small dark holes, each bubbling with the same dark liquid that was staining the carpet._

 _Peter stared at the figure for a moment longer before he finally found his voice again._

 _"M...Mommy?"_

 _Before he could even take another step, a soft creak met his ears. Whipping his head back up, Peter felt a gasp fall from his lips as his eyes fell on the same shadowed figure from before. The child felt himself stumble backward, his frantic gaze meeting that of the stranger._

 _He felt himself freeze as two glowing orange eyes pierced right through him._

 _ **CRRAAACCCKKKK!**_

* * *

 **Friday - March 25, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Third Floor**

 **05:54 a.m.**

Peter jolted awake, his body jerking as a strangled gasp fell from his lips. He tried to lift his arms but found that he was tied down to the bed. Instantly feeling a spike of fear shoot through his heart, the teen let out a grunt as he yanked at his limbs. A startled yelp bubbled past his mouth as he felt himself tumble to the floor, the bed sheets still wrapped tightly around his body.

The teen couldn't suppress a sigh as he let his eyes shut once more, lying face-down in the carpet of his bedroom. After a moment, the boy slowly began to untangle himself from the sheets until he was able to sit upright.

He groaned softly as he pressed the palm of his hand to his temple, willing the throbbing headache away as he ran a hand down his face, only to pull away as he felt something wet touch his fingertips. He blinked in shock at the moisture before touching his cheeks once more. _Great..._ He muttered to himself as he roughly wiped the tears away before he rose up to his feet.

Peter hissed in pain as he jostled his chest. Tentatively lifting up his shirt, the teen ran shaky fingers gingerly along his ribs. Even without looking in a mirror, the teen knew his torso had to be littered with dark black and purple bruises if the pain in his ribs was any indication. But he wasn't coughing up blood so...

It couldn't be too bad.

Breathing out through his nose, the teen ran a hand through his hair and glanced over at the clock, the lights blinking back at him: _05:55 a.m._

 _Hmm...they didn't wake me up._ He murmured to himself before biting the inside of his cheek. _They must be out again._

It wasn't much of a surprise. His father and the Cons were always busy doing... _something._ Often, Peter would find they'd leave for hours upon hours, not getting back until the late hours of the night, sometimes not even until the next morning. There were even times when they'd be gone for days at a time. Of course, his father usually gave him a little heads up whenever that was the case. Seeing as how he'd received no such warning, Peter doubted they'd be gone for longer than a day.

 _Whatever...a few hours away from them is enough._ The teen muttered to himself as he walked into the bathroom. Moving over towards the bathtub, the teen grasped the nozzle and twisted it, a harsh spray of water splashing down. Undressing as quickly as his injuries would allow, the teen stepped into the scalding spray and allowed the near-boiling water to wash away any remaining remnants from his dream.

 _I have to stop doing this._ Peter thought to himself as he ran a hand through his soaked hair. He found he'd been thinking of _her_ more and more often. It was starting to become a problem. Now they were starting to show through on him _physically_ It was fine when it was solely confined to his thoughts, but if his father had caught him...seen the tears.

God, he wouldn't be standing.

He turned to face the hot spray of water, allowing the scalding drops to wash against his face.

He noticed it again. In his dream. When he had looked at his mother's face...the details were becoming fuzzier. It was harder to tell whether her eyes were green or blue, whether her hair reached her shoulders or stretched to her back. He knew what it meant.

He was forgetting her.

. . .

 _Good..._

 _I'm finally doing something right for once_. He thought to himself, remembering the words his father had spat to him once when he was eight-years-old and had asked - _for the last time-_ about his mother.

He knew in his head that it was the right thing, that he should be happy for finally doing something correctly in his father's eyes. And yet. . . he couldn't help the sick feeling that churned in his stomach at the thought of forgetting his mother's face. OF forgetting the soft tones of her voice. The strawberry-scent of her hair.

He reached out and twisted the shower knob once again, ceasing the spray of water. Silently, the teen grasped the towel hanging off to the side and stepped out. Taking a second to dry himself and put on his clothes for the day, the teen turned towards the mirror.

Lifting a hand, the teen smeared his palm against the fogged glass, clearing a small, watery patch so that he could look at his face. He was getting used to the familiar look of dark bags underneath his eyes as well as the common bruise littering his forehead or his cheek. Thankfully, the ones from last night were already beginning to fade. Another upside to his healing factor, he supposed.

Hanging his damp towel up on the hanger, he reminded himself to do the laundry when he got home before exiting the humid room. A cloud of stream floated into his room as he opened up the bathroom door, moving over towards his desk as he collected up the papers and scattered folders from the homework he'd hastily done the night before.

A slight grimace played on his face as he noticed the _hefty_ number of problems he had failed to complete. Clicking his tongue, he elected to do them in the hallway before class started once he got to school. Ned would probably just try to convince him to copy off his own problems, but Peter already knew he'd decline. Ned already did enough for him. He could handle a few stupid math problems.

Neatly filing the papers into his folder, the teen stuffed it into his backpack before zipping it closed, hoisting it up over his shoulder as he opened his bedroom door. The sound of comforting silence met his ears, a small sigh of relief bubbling past his lips.

Making his way down to the second floor, Peter moved over towards the pantry. As usual, there was barely anything inside save for a few boxes of uncooked spaghetti, a couple cans of soup, tomato sauce and corn and some half-eaten bread.

Reaching in, the teen took hold of the bread and tore himself off a piece, careful to make it small enough so that the others wouldn't notice. They didn't like it when he ate without their permission. Said something about throwing off their tests...or something or other. He didn't really listen at this point. Besides, he was willing to bet they just did it to make him suffer.

He knew how much they just _loved_ that.

Rolling his eyes in frustration, the teen popped a small piece of the bread into his mouth. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to stave off his hunger until lunch.

He knew it wasn't true, far from it if he were being completely honest. However, with experience, Peter had come to realize that he was nothing if not a little optimistic. After all, it was basically all he had.

Grabbing his keys out of the bowl by the counter, Peter walked down the final flight of stairs down to the first floor. Letting out a small sigh, the teen hoisted his bag up higher before opening the front door, sucking in a deep breath as he ran another hand through his hair, which was already beginning to fluff up to its usual poof.

 _Well...I have no_ new _bruises this morning, my bones are all properly aligned, and the house is empty so I can invite Ned over tonight. This morning's_ already _better than usual._ He thought to himself with a small smile. _Maybe, if I'm lucky, today won't be as bad as I thought._ He murmured to himself as he took a step forward...only for his foot to slip out from underneath him. A yelp fell from his lips as he slid down the remaining steps, slamming down painfully into the pavement below him.

He rested his head back against the bottom step as he let out a groan.

 _But when are you ever lucky, Parker?_

* * *

 **Friday - March 25, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Offices**

 **11:42 a.m.**

 _"Everyone has_ something _to feel guilty about."_

Tony sighed and placed his elbow up on the desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes tightly. No matter how much he tried to fight it, ignore it, Peter's words continued to ring around in his ears, distracting him from doing basically _any_ work at all, judging from the massive pile of paperwork still sitting in front of him.

Lazily twisting the pen in his hand from one finger to the other, Tony stared down at the file in front of him. But, even though his eyes scanned the lines of words, his mind did very little in actually taking them in. Though of course, that could have just been the lack of sleep. Safe to say, the teen's words had left him with just a little more insomnia than usual, and that was saying something.

Tony had tried to busy himself down in the labs, tinkering with suits, messing with circuitry, _HELL_ , he'd even stooped to doing actual _paperwork, s_ omething that was quite a rarity for him nowadays. Yet, here he was! Granted, he wasn't doing a very good job of it, but still.

However, none of it was enough to drag his mind away from that rooftop, away from that _strange_ fourteen-year-old.

 _"The only difference is that you're standing right here. Right_ fucking _here!"_

Safe to say, Tony had been absolutely shocked at the raw emotion hiding behind Peter's outburst a few nights ago. Up until that point, the man had assumed that the teen hid any and all states of agitation and fire behind his Spider-Man mask. But there, on that rooftop, he saw something he was willing to bet Peter rarely ever showed.

He saw a glimpse of the _real_ Peter Parker.

He wasn't shy and timid. He wasn't nervous and agitated, glancing over his shoulder at every noise, every whisper. He wasn't apologizing every two seconds for things that were completely out of his control, trivial things that barely even mattered.

No, the kid he saw on that rooftop was strong. He was brave, he wasn't afraid to speak out and stand up for what was right. And the thing that shocked Tony the most was that he wasn't even defending _himself_. No! He was defending _him!_ Tony Stark! A man he'd known for only around a month! And yet, his words, the ferocity behind them, the raw anger and hurt concealed beneath them almost made Tony believe that it had been _Peter_ in Siberia and not him.

 _Siberia...Cap..._ God, just the thought of it made Tony's grip on the pen in his hand tighten painfully.

" _You're not off hiding in some safe house like a coward, shielding yourself from the destruction_ you _caused!"_

The teen's words rang like bells in his mind, making his anger spike as he let them crawl through his brain like spiders infesting a nest. He'd be lying if he said the kid didn't have a point. It hadn't taken long for not just Steve, but for all of the other Avengers to break away from everything and crawl underground like cockroaches hiding from sunlight.

Tony's fingers traced the edges of the pen, the smooth surface gliding across the calloused skin. Here he was! Busting his ass off, trying to get the Accords under control. He'd known from the get-go that those documents weren't perfect. Things rarely were in the beginning. He'd known they would have to be amended, revised. However, Cap and his band of idiots hadn't really given them much time to actually make any headway with them before blowing everything to shit!

Now Ross was pushing every button to try and convince more and more officials that the Accords needed to be stricter, more controlling. Well, that was the _last_ fucking thing they needed! So here he was now, left to pick up the damn pieces while the others gallivanted off elsewhere, hiding from the mess _they_ had created, not even bothering to lend a hand of aid.

 _Well,_ you're _not likely to get shot the second someone sees your face_. He thought to himself. Instantly, he felt a bout of rage flare up inside of him as he slammed his fist down on the desk. "Well, they _fucking_ deserve it!" He snarled to himself at that thought of sympathy. It's not like they needed any more of that. The media already gave them _plenty!_

And yet, even as the words left his mouth, he could feel the bitter taste they left, despite his best efforts to ignore it. Even as his mind tried to stay focused, tried to convince him that he was merely frustrated at the devastation and work the other Avengers had inconvenienced him with, he knew, deep down, that that wasn't even _close_ to the true reason he felt so much hate.

No...the real reason was much simpler...but that much more devastating.

 _"He left. He left_ you! _He left you alone to die back there!"_

Tony sighed and rested his head in his hands, quickly feeling the full force of his exhaustion like a truck barreling through him. Despite what he constantly tried to convince himself, he knew that Steve leaving had hurt him much more than he liked to let on.

" _I mean...I...I thought you guys were friends. Family! How could...how could he just leave? You...you don't do that to your friends, your...your family._

Tony would be the first to admit that when they'd first met, he and Steve had basically hated their guts. It was obvious to pretty much anyone who'd even glanced at the two. Though, it was to be expected. Stark was a playboy and a con man. He let his ego drive his action most of the time and was willing to get on anybody's nerves just for the heck of it.

Steve Rogers, on the other hand, was America's Golden Boy. He was sweet and charming in a whole other sense of the word. He was willing to lay his life down on the line and seemed to embody the true spirits of loyalty and honesty, with the stubbornness to boot.

The pair was basically two sides of a spinning coin. Neither knew who would eventually come out on top, and who would be flattened by the other.

And yet...as time had gone on, both Steve and Tony had begun to settle down. Sure, it was obvious they got on each other's nerves more than the others did, but it was _also_ obvious that they seemed to do it with a new sense of humor and light-heartedness behind it. If anything, it resembled the way brothers constantly teased and picked on each other, but at the end of the day, both knew they could trust the other with their life.

And Tony had. He'd trusted Steve with his life. He'd come to value the man not just as a friend, but as family. And they were. At the end of the day, when all was said and done, they truly were _family._

 _. . ._

Well...they _had_ been.

" _Don't you try and convince me that you're somehow worse than Steve Rogers, alright? Because at the end of the day, he's the one who abandoned you..."_

Tony dropped the pen down onto the papers before him, letting out a frustrated groan as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. "This is ridiculous!" He groaned to himself. Realizing he most likely wouldn't make any more progress on the papers in front of him, the man began to file them back into place, making a mental note to go back through them later.

Leaning back in his chair, Tony lazily spun around until he was facing the large window that made up the back wall of his office. It was still mid-morning, so the traffic down below wasn't as backed up as it would be around lunchtime. The sun shone brightly above, the buildings around him casting harsh flares of bright light as the rays reflected off of windows and metal frames.

As he stared out at the city, Tony drifted back to the teen who had spoken the words he'd been hooked on ever since they'd been uttered. The entire ordeal up on the rooftop left a strange feeling in the billionaire's gut, though, the same could be said for all of his encounters with Peter.

The teen was definitely unlike anyone he'd ever met before. Tony wondered whether that was a good thing or not. He rubbed his fingers against his forehead as he placed his elbow up on the armrest of the chair.

 _You really couldn't have picked a worse time to pull something like this, Tony._ He thought to himself. Peter Parker's case was a sensitive one, that much was given. After all, Tony had never had to pick and choose his words as carefully as he did with the teen. One wrong phrase, one ill-timed quip could send the teen spiraling into a panic.

Of course, with Tony on the verge of a panic himself at most hours of the day, it didn't exactly alleviate any stress. If anything, it added about ten times as much. _Geez, if only this could have happened two months ago..._ He thought to himself.

And it was true. Despite the hate he felt for himself at thinking it, Tony knew that handling Peter, handling his delicate situation would have been a lot easier with the other Avengers backing him up...with _Steve's_ help.

But here he was. Stuck with a teenager with problems that Tony had _no idea_ on how to even tackle, let alone _solve_. Not to mention the fact that the billionaire made friends with nearly every _bottle_ in the frikkin Tower on most nights. Safe to say, none of those traits really portrayed the role of strong, competent mentor that he was sure Peter needed right now.

 _You're only gonna make this worse..._ The words were in his mind before he could stop them. Tony narrowed his eyes and let out a frustrated scoff as he glared down at the floor. He was being ridiculous! Peter had made it _very_ clear the previous night just _what_ he truly thought of Tony Stark. It was obvious the kid basically idolized him, though he was much more discrete about it than other fans of his.

 _And as long as you're not slapping him across the face whenever he looks at you, I'd say you're already above -average compared to some other people in his life._ He thought bitterly to himself.

Instantly, all the anger in him was extinguished like a bucket of ice water being poured on a candle. The man shut his eyes and let out a small breath as the words rang around in his head, the true extent of the situation slamming into him like a shield stabbing through his chest.

Peter was in trouble. That much was obvious. No matter how much the teen tried to downplay it, Tony could tell he was in pain. It was the kind of pain no amount of money could fix. It was the kind of pain that couldn't be taken away with tinkering and jokes. It was the kind of pain that Tony had far too much experience with.

It was the kind of pain that tore you to pieces.

 _You honestly think you're qualified for this?_ He asked himself. No. No, he wasn't. He wasn't even the most qualified person when it came to kids in general, let alone ones with serious mental scars and trust issues.

" _You're the one who's fixing all of their messes! You're the one who's actually **trying!"**_

Tony bit the inside of his cheek as Peter's words replayed over and over in the back of his mind. He couldn't stop seeing the pained look in the teen's eyes. The desperation for Tony to listen to him. The anger he felt for the other Avengers.

The worry shining in his unshed tears.

It was only going to get worse from here. Tony would have to be blind to not see that Peter had genuinely been worried about him up on that roof. The teen was actually... _concerning_ himself with Tony's problems, even though he had a _mountain_ of his own to deal with!

 _You honestly think that's what he needs right now? More problems to concern himself with?_ Tony knew it was a valid argument. With all the shit Peter no doubt dealt with on a daily basis, the last thing he needed was to be around Tony, someone who was probably only a few weeks away from a _legit_ mental breakdown.

No, if anything, Tony knew that it would probably be smarter to keep Peter _away_ from all of this. God knew _he_ wanted to get away from it. The last thing Peter needed was to be involved in all the shit with Cap, Ross, the Accords...

Tony winced as the documents came back to his mind. He knew Ross was suspicious of the newcomer that Tony had brought to Berlin, to Leipzig. He also knew that the Secretary of State was very adamant in getting Tony to reveal the identity of said newcomer.

Unfortunately, the billionaire just _couldn't_ have that.

He knew that by involving Peter in the Accords, he would also be involving him in a shitload of crap he didn't need on his plate. Not to mention the fact that he would most likely never get the chance to be a normal teenager anymore...well, as normal as one could be when they could do their homework on the ceiling. But it wasn't just that. It also brought up another issue that made Tony all the more nervous.

What would happen if Peter's family learned of his identity?

He knew that if he ever exposed his identity to Ross that Richard would no doubt also be made aware. Tony could still remember the day he'd first recruited Peter. He remembered the small, little threat he'd given to the boy. The same little threat that made Tony hate himself even more than he already did.

But he could remember the look of sheer, unadulterated _fear_ that shone through in Peter's eyes when he threatened to tell his father even more.

While he'd only expected the teen to protest slightly at the blackmail, the billionaire had never expected for the teen to practically _beg_ him not to expose who he was. That alone had Tony worried about what would happen _should_ Richard ever find out.

Tony knew that if Peter was _that_ afraid by just the sheer _idea_ of having his identity exposed, then it had to be _bad._ Like... _really bad._

No. He couldn't do that. He couldn't do that to the kid.

SO if that meant adding one more lie to the pile of shit he usually fed Ross, then so be it. Besides, it wasn't like Spider-Man was often dealing in international affairs so he knew the Secretary didn't really have any real cause to be worried.

But it was just another reminder that keeping Peter close, keeping him involved would only end badly for the teen.

Still...every time Tony thought of dropping the internship, of letting the teen go and ceasing their meeting, it made the pit in his stomach open up so wide he feared he would fall in.

He knew the act could benefit Peter...but he also knew it could just as easily hurt him.

 _"Because at the end of the day, he's the one who abandoned you, abandoned all of us..."_

. . .

Tony sighed for what felt like the twelfth time in the past half hour.

No. He couldn't do it. He tried to convince himself that he was only doing it to prevent that feeling of abandonment from infecting Peter as well, but he also knew that somewhere...in the back of his mind...he couldn't let go of Peter either.

And that feeling of selfishness made him itch for that bottle of scotch he'd left in the fridge last night.

"So, are you planning on doing any of that paperwork or should I expect a new pile of papers on my desk later today?"

Tony visibly jumped as he twisted the chair around, watching as both Pepper and Rhodey walked into the large office. Quickly replacing his shocked face with his usual, trademark smirk, the man shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I know how much you love doing this crap so I might just be kind enough to let you take care of it." He quipped. Pepper merely rolled her eyes as they walked into the room.

The billionaire propped his elbows up on the desk. "So, to what do I owe this wonderful visit?" He asked, batting his eyes sarcastically.

He quickly picked up on the shift in demeanor between his two friends as they exchanged small looks. Finally, Rhodes turned back to him, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the doorframe. "We're just coming up to check on you." He murmured.

Tony scoffed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Both Pepper and Rhodes opened their mouths, only for Tony to quickly lift up a finger. "Don't answer that. That was a rhetorical question." He muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Rhodes let out a sigh. "Look, Tony. I don't know whether or not we made this clear to you Wednesday night, but we're worried about you, man." He said with a hard look on his face as he recalled the previous night. After Tony had returned from his little escapades with their newest intern, he'd been - forcefully - dragged into his office by Pepper and Rhodey where they threatened him with duct-taping him to the chair unless he sat and listened to them. From there, they went on to explain to him their fears and worries about him and his little...late night coping mechanisms. Of course, being Tony, the man had been quick to deflect and reassure them that everything was fine and that he would be alright.

Of course, they didn't buy that crap for a second.

"I know how you are with this kind of shit. You pretend that you're fine and instead of turning to your friends, who could, you know, actually _help_ you with this, you just busy yourself with getting antiquated with the liquor cabinet." Rhodey muttered angrily. Pepper placed a calming hand on the colonel's shoulder before turning towards Tony. "Listen, Tony. I know...well...I _don't_ know what you're going through right now, but-"

"Ah! Let me stop you right there." Tony said as he lifted his hand. "Is there going to be a point to this or are we just warming up the oven for your pity cake. Cause I got to say, I really don't have the stomach for one of those right now." He said with a smirk. "Just started a new diet, thanks."

Rhodey let out an aggravated sigh as his friend, once again, deflected with jokes and sarcastic comments. "Listen, Tony, I know this shit is rough but-"

"It's not much different from all the other crap I've had to live with." The billionaire growled darkly before turning his gaze away. "I dealt with those just fine. I'll deal with this too." He muttered as he rose up from his chair, fully intending to walk past the two at his door, only for Pepper to grab his shoulder. "But it's not _just_ _you_ you're dealing with now, Tony." She reminded him with concerning eyes.

"If you're talking about Peter-"

"You mean your _accomplice_?" Rhodes muttered.

Tony flashed him a smile, to which the colonel simply scowled. "I have everything under control." He reassured them.

Pepper placed her hands on her hips. "Really? Cause it sure didn't look like you did when you were having a chugging contest with yourself a couple nights ago." She muttered. Tony's face became unreadable for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders, an unperturbed face concealing his features. "It's not like he was around."

Both Pepper and Rhodey let out exasperated sighs at his comment, the noise making Tony clench his fists silently. Unnoticeably.

"You can't do this again, Tony. Not now. You can't go playing the irresponsible act. Not with Peter being such a huge factor here." Rhodes explained. Tony glared back at him. "You think I don't know that? You honestly think I haven't been _thinking_ about him this entire time, worrying about how in the _hell_ I'm going to do this?!" He snarled, narrowing his eyes at the two in front of him, who both looked slightly shocked at his sudden shift.

However, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and Tony was right back to being as snarky and calm as before. "Look, the kid's going to be fine. _I'm_ going to be fine. You're both worrying over nothing." He reassured them with another smile. One they both could tell was fake. However, they chose wisely not to comment on it. He began forward once more, brushing past the two as he walked out into the hallway.

"Where are you going?" He heard Pepper call.

He motioned with his head towards the ceiling. "I'm heading upstairs for a little while. You convinced me, Pep. So I'll kindly allow you to finish up that paperwork for me. You're welcome." He smirked.

"Isn't the kid coming by today?" Rhodey called as he watched Tony walk towards the elevator. "Not till later!" the billionaire called over his shoulder. As he entered the elevator, the man turned back towards Rhodes. "You should talk to him, Rhodey. Get him to stop being so intimidated by you. That way I won't have to become like a barricade between you and him every time he sees you." He muttered, remembering how nervous the teen was around the colonel.

"And how do you suppose I do that?" Rhodey muttered, folding his arms over his chest once again.

Tony thought about it for a minute. "You still have that bunny suit I got you for Easter last year?

He could still hear the colonel's indignant shouts of anger as the elevator doors closed. Tony's amused scoff fell away as the elevator began to ascend up the Tower. He let out a tired sigh and propped his back up against the cool walls of the elevator, lifting his hand to rub at his eyes.

In the back of his mind, he knew Pepper and Rhodey were doing what they always did. They were simply trying to help him. He knew they were concerned, and if he were being honest, they had good reason to be. But...he just couldn't get past it. He couldn't get past those looks. It was those looks on their faces that made him deny their help every single goddamn time. It was those looks that made him refuse any and all offers of help.

Those damn looks of pity.

He hated how they walked around him like he was surrounded by eggshells. He hated how they spoke to him as if he were a fragile piece of cracked glass, ready to shatter at any second. He _despised_ those pitying looks, like he was a broken, sad, pathetic waste.

He _hated_ it.

Maybe that was why he had had such little problem in speaking to Peter about it. When he looked at the teen, Peter gave him no signs of pity, no signs of sadness. No, Tony saw something else when Peter looked at him. It wasn't just awe. It wasn't just wonder.

It was understanding.

The elevator stopped, the doors sliding open effortlessly. Tony lifted his head and instantly deflated at the sight. As usual, the penthouse was in pristine condition. Furniture spotless. Kitchen appliances shining. However, there was just one problem. One problem that had him avoiding the penthouse as much as possible.

It was much too quiet.

There was no sound of the TV blaring obnoxiously. No whine of the blender whirring. No annoyed tones of bickering. Nothing but silence as Tony walked out onto the main floor. The man stole a single glance around the - _empty_ \- floor as he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. Two years ago, he would have _killed_ for a little bit of quiet in the tower, but this...

He'd never wanted this.

As he walked further into the large room, his eyes swept over the kitchen to the side, mainly towards the bar set up against the back wall. He stopped as his gaze locked onto the many bottles lined up against the bar, fingers twitching slightly as he debated whether or not to give in to his temptations.

Finally, after realizing that Peter would be coming later that day, the man huffed and moved over towards the couch, not having the energy to make it all the way to his room. With a tired sigh filtering through his lips, the man roughly collapsed onto the soft furniture, his head bouncing back against the lip of the couch.

Quickly feeling the effects of his lack of sleep slamming into him like a train, the man shut his eyes, telling himself he'd only take a short break. Twenty minutes tops.

He was out like a light before he could think better of it.

* * *

 **Friday - March 25, 2016**

 **En Route to Stark Tower**

 **02:56 p.m.**

Happy glanced up towards the rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of the teen currently staring out the window, cheek resting on his propped-up fist. The man furrowed his brow before turning back towards the road. "You good, kid?" He called, forcing himself to keep his eyes forward.

Nevertheless, he caught a glimpse of Peter lifting his head. "Umm...yeah. Y-yeah...I'm fine." He murmured softly before turning back towards the window.

Happy stole one last glance towards the teen before giving a small shake of his head, turning back towards the road.

He should have been grateful. He should have been relieved. He should have been, well... _happy._ After all, the man was sure that had it been any other teenager, they would have been yapping his ear off or rambling on about some inane new topic on their phone, and _god_ knows the ill-tempered man didn't need any of that crap.

But, there was just something... _off_ about the way Peter acted.

Maybe it was the hunched shoulders. Maybe it was the way he never seemed all that comfortable around him. Or maybe it was the fact that Tony had finally filled him in on what the billionaire _assumed_ to be happening in the Parker Residence behind closed doors.

He was willing to bet on the latter.

Happy couldn't say he was a very... _loving_ person. Oh, sure, he had many friends. He even considered people like Tony, Pepper and Rhodey to be somewhat like family to him. But he could honestly say he wasn't what one would call... _nurturing_.

However, he just couldn't shake that unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever Peter flinched every time the driver spoke. He couldn't help but squeeze the steering wheel just a little tighter every time Peter apologized for something he didn't need to apologize _for._ He couldn't help the way his brow furrowed every time the teen huddled in on himself.

No, he wasn't a _loving_ man, but he wasn't heartless either.

"Are you _sure_ you're alright, Peter?" He called once again, peeling his eyes away from the road to stare at the kid from the mirror.

Peter lifted his head to look up at the man, surprised he'd actually used his full name. He'd only ever heard the man call him _"kid"_. As he stared at the man, he noticed the shift in his eyes. They weren't as cold and uncaring as usual. In fact, Peter almost thought he was a small hint of _concern_ in them. He shook it off, surmising it as a mere trick of the light. Nevertheless, it made him smile just a little bit as he gave another nod of his head.

"I'm sure. T-thanks...Happy." He said softly, giving the man a small, reassuring smile.

Happy continued to stare at the teen for a moment longer before giving a satisfactory nod of his head, turning back towards the road. _Got to say, Tony. You sure know how to pick 'em._ He muttered to himself, though he couldn't really tell whether he was being sarcastic or not.

As his mind drifted over the billionaire, Happy couldn't help the small sigh that fell from his lips. It wasn't much of a secret that Tony was struggling. It didn't surprise Happy. He'd seen the man when he'd returned from Siberia. It...it was bad. Like...like _really_ bad. Of course, with him being Tony, the man easily played off any and all concerns towards him.

Happy had been with the man long enough to know when he was lying and when he wasn't. And this was nothing more than another lie. Just another cover to deflect any and all comforting words or pitying looks. He knew Tony couldn't stand being pitied.

Despite their constant squabbling, Happy could honestly say Tony was family, and it pained him seeing his friend struggle like this. He'd fully been expecting the man to shut himself off, to refuse any help and delve into a downward spiral, something he'd had the misfortune of experiencing before.

But something was different this time.

Two days ago, he'd had to help Pepper, Rhodey and most of the staff search the building for their missing employer. At first glance, Happy had assumed that the man was off drinking in private somewhere. But much to his shock, Pepper had explained that the man was actually roaming around the tower with _Peter!_

Somehow, the teen had done something that not even Tony's closest friends had been able to do. He got him to relax, open up, have fun, even if it was only for a couple hours.

He'd distracted him.

Happy glanced back up at the mirror, taking in the teen sitting in the backseat once again. At first glance, the teen didn't seem like anything special, but somehow he'd been able to basically do the impossible. He'd somehow gotten on Tony Stark's good side.

Happy could honestly say he didn't know all that much about Peter, other than that he had a pretty shitty life and he wasn't all that comfortable around strangers. But there was obviously something else there. Something else that Tony had seen, something he _connected_ with.

Somehow, this kid had been able to penetrate the billionaire's sharp, thorny exterior, if only for a little while, and he'd brought out something brighter. He'd brought out a little bit of the old Tony, something they'd feared had been killed off in Siberia

 _I don't know what you're doing kid..._ Happy thought to himself. _...but I suggest you keep on doing it. For Tony's sake._

* * *

 **Friday - March 25, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Living Quarters**

 **03:34 p.m.**

The fact that Tony barely even moved as Rhodey draped the blanket over his sleeping form was enough to send a jolt of concern shooting through the colonel. However, taking into consideration the number of days he assumed the billionaire had gone without sleep, Rhodey could honestly say he shouldn't have expected anything less.

Didn't mean he had to like it, though.

Tony looked pretty awful now that he wasn't hiding behind forced smiles and purposely avoiding their gazes. The bags under his eyes continued to darken, his hair was messy and unkempt and the lines on his face seemed to deepen with each passing day. All in all, he seemed...old.

Rhodey glanced down at his watch, brows furrowing as he took in the time. Assuming Tony had fallen asleep shortly after their little talk with Pepper, then that meant he'd been asleep for around four hours. Knowing Tony, Rhodes assumed the man had only meant to close his eyes for a few minutes at the most. Of course, Rhodey wasn't about to wake him up. Any sleep was good enough when it came to his idiot best friend.

Glancing over towards the glass coffee table in front of the couch, Rhodes took notice of the Stark Pad sitting on the surface. With a small sigh, the colonel reached down and plucked up the device, flipping it open as he tapped his fingers across the screen, pulling up the most recent files.

As he'd expected, they were files of info on the up and coming meetings with the Senate and the UN delegates regarding the newest revisions to the Accords. The man let out a tired groan. It seemed that with each passing day a new revision or law was being added or revised within the Accords.

Of course, Tony had to go over each and every one of these changes, speaking out whenever one took things a step too far in regards to individual rights and freedoms, something that happened all too often. With the numerous meetings that were being scheduled day in and day out, Rhodes had volunteered to become somewhat of an assistant to the billionaire, taking his place in such affairs whenever needed.

Scrolling down on the screen, Rhodes skimmed over the papers and documents being displayed as he mulled the information over in his head. He stole a silent glance over towards the exhausted man sleeping on the couch before narrowing his eyes, tightening his grip on the pad as he made his way over towards the elevator, the soft whirring of his leg braces filling his ears. Tony didn't have to concern himself with _this_ particular meeting.

"D-wing, FRI." He called as he turned his attention back to the screen.

" _Right away, Colonel."_ The elevator immediately began to descend back down to the occupied floors as Rhodey scrolled back up to the very first file as he began to fill himself in on the information he would need while taking Tony's place in this upcoming meeting.

As the elevator slowed to a stop, Rhodey wordlessly stepped out, intent on making his way over towards the large, usually empty lounge located on this floor. It was generally unoccupied, most of the employees unaware that it even existed, making it the perfect place to do work (that you really didn't want to do in the first place).

Rhodes let an annoyed scoff fall from his lips as his eyes scanned over the files. _Geez, how can they seriously expect this to fly with us?_ He muttered to himself as he re-read some of the new implications they wanted to add to the Accords. The documents were already a mess of rules, regulations, and injunctions that needed to be cleared. Of course, all the drama with the Rogue Avengers wasn't much help in the matter.

The colonel felt his grip on the pad tighten at the thought of the other Avengers, an involuntary jolt of pain flaring in his legs.

Safe to say, he'd been one of the first people to tell Tony that becoming a part of some psycho, superpowered team of circus freaks probably wasn't the best idea. He'd known Tony for the longest time, and if there was one thing he knew about him, it was that he didn't get along well with others.

So, constructing an entire team revolving around a center of trust and connection? Rhodey knew it could only end badly.

And yet, he'd been pleasantly surprised. After a few months, he'd begun to see something change in his best friend. For the longest time, he'd been a real pain in the ass. He'd always been headstrong and stubborn, arrogant, narcissistic and just a _tad_ full of himself. Just a _tad._ However, while most people blew off this behavior as just something that evolved in a person born of such privilege and wealth, Rhodey knew that wasn't the case.

He'd known Tony as a scared, nerdy fourteen-year-old who was severely out of place at MIT. IN fact, the only thing that connected him to everyone else was his brain, and even in _that_ department, he was different. After all, he could basically make anyone look like the biggest idiot just by talking to them.

Of course, that didn't really fly with some of the other students.

So, throw in a couple of bullies here and there, and you have a recipe for disaster. There were days Rhodey wondered what might have happened to Tony had he not been assigned as his roommate.

At first, Rhodey had been just as confused and annoyed at the teen's presence in the school. After all, he'd worked his butt off just to get his application _looked_ at and here comes this annoying fourteen-year-old who more likely than not just had to get his father to call up the school to get in. It was no wonder why nobody liked him.

However, after a few weeks, Rhodey began to understand the true reason as to why Tony was at that school. The kid was a _fucking_ genius! There were times when he made the teachers and professors look like babbling idiots. Of course, such a fact fell on deaf ears to the people that refused to see him as anything other than that privileged rich brat.

Of course, basically being his only friend at that school, Rhodey fell into the slot of protective best friend/temporary bodyguard. Most kids had the brains to leave the shy boy alone whenever Rhodey was with him. Quickly become something of a big brother to the kid, Rhodey and Tony quickly became an inseparable pair. But it still never seemed to be enough

With the constant berating and bullying, Rhodey watched as that shy, nervous teen began to evolve into something else. His quiet demeanor shifted into a snarky, prickly exterior, with a large mouth and a cocky attitude, with the skills and the brains to back it up. Every insult thrown at him was instantly hurled back with a dazzling smirk and a snarky retort.

Throw in the fact that Tony's father all but barely even _looked_ at him right up to his untimely death, and you had the makings of a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Team player? Not so much.

So, of course, watching Tony become so close to the Avengers had been an extreme shock, one that both delighted and worried Rhodey all the same. He watched as his best friend began to finally emerge from the shell he'd created in college and reach out towards other people, reviving just a little bit of that young, trusting fourteen-year-old Rhodey had met.

But as it turns out, Rhodey had been right to be worried. For as he'd expected, things hadn't lasted.

Of course, he'd never expected it to affect Tony as badly as it had. Safe to say, Rhodey had seen both the best and the worst from Tony Stark. He'd seen him at his highest and at his lowest, and he'd been with him through it all. He'd protected the kid. He'd comforted the orphan. He'd even fought alongside the superhero. But he'd never expected to have to console the grieving teammate.

Honestly, there were days where Rohdey was surprised his best friend was still alive. After all, there seemed to be more attempts on his life than the President's. But each and every time somebody threatened him, whether it was schoolyard bullies, psychopathic businessmen or government assholes, Rhodey could honestly say he'd had a very strong urge to punch each and every one of them in the face

But he'd never wanted to punch a face _more_ than when he thought of Steve Rogers and the other Avengers.

Quickly taking a calming breath, the man pressed two fingers to his eyes as he sighed loudly, mentally taking note of the fact that he was approaching the lounge. However, upon entering, he was surprised to realize he wasn't the only one in the room.

Sitting in the corner of one of the larger couches sat one Peter Parker. The teen was surrounded by different papers and folders, a large textbook laying open on the seat next to him, an old, raggedy backpack sitting by his feet. The teen was so absorbed in the work around him that he never even noticed the colonel enter the room.

Well, at least until Rhodey cleared his throat.

Peter's eyes flicked upwards and Rhodey nearly laughed at the shocked look that fell on the teen's face. Of course, the instant tenseness of his muscles, as well as the quick addition of fear in the teen's face dispelled any and all amusement he might have been feeling.

"M-Mr. Colonel Rhoes, S-Sir!" He exclaimed, quickly rising up to his feet, ignoring the papers that fluttered to his feet at his sudden movements. "I..I was just...I m-mean I didn't t-think anyone u-used this r-room and..." He paused, taking note of the folders and papers that were now littering the floor.

He stooped down to his knees and frantically began to collect them, crumpling them in his hands as he brought them close, barely even worrying about keeping them neat anymore. "I-I'm s-s-sorry. I c-can go to another...a-another room i-if...if you want m-me t-" His eyes, which had been locked onto the papers before him, glanced up slightly in surprise as Rhodey handed him one of the papers that had fallen near his foot.

"You're good, kid. You don't have to go anywhere." He said with a small smile.

The gesture didn't seem to do much to calm the teen's nerves as he ripped the paper out of the man's hands, cheeks flushing red as he scooped up the remaining papers and deposited them back onto the couch.

With one last nervous glance towards the colonel (a gesture that reminded Rhodey of a mouse eyeing a hungry cat), Peter slowly moved to sit back down on the couch. Taking hold of his pencil once more, he tried to ignore the shaking of his hand as he fought to keep his eyes glued to his paper.

Rhodey stood still for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. Should he leave, or was this what Tony had been hoping for? _I'm guessing he didn't mean scare the teen out of his wits._ The colonel muttered to himself.

Before he could decide, Peter hesitantly voiced his own doubts. "Umm...w-what are...what are you d-doing...here?" He asked softly.

Rhodey glanced down at the teen, opening his mouth to respond, only to be cut off as Peter turned his fear-stricken eyes towards him. "I mean...n-not that you aren't like...not that you c-can't be in...in here I mean you h-have been here a-a lot longer than I have and... _not_ that you're old or anything I-I just m-meant that...that you have _seniority_ a-and that I...I'm just..." He seemed to forcefully snap his jaw shut before he could vomit out any more garbage, cheeks deepening in their harsh red color as his curls drooped down to cover his panicking eyes.

"S-Sorry..."

For not the first time in his life, Rhodes was shocked silent, barely reserving enough sense to keep his jaw from hanging open. _Jesus, Tones. You really weren't kidding_." He thought to himself as he stared at the teen who seemed to be inching closer and closer to a panic attack with every breath he took.

Finally, taking another second to clear his throat (wincing slightly as Peter flinched back at the noise), Rhodey gestured lamely towards the pad in his hands. "I was just coming down here to do a little bit of work." He explained, Peter trailing hesitant eyes on him. "How 'bout you, kid? What are you doing down here?"

Peter blinked up at him before glancing back down. "I, uh...well when I came in h-here, I...I asked FRIDAY if s-she knew where Mr. Stark w-was and...and she said that he was asleep and that s-she could wake him up for me if I w-wanted her to." He fiddled with the pencil in his hand. "I...I told her no, I-I don't really know if I was a-actually allowed to do that but...but Mr. Stark l-looked really tired the last time I-I saw him s-so...so I thought I'd just let him sleep." He flicked the piece of paper in his grasp. "I have enough work to k-keep myself busy anyway."

Rhodey gave the teen a thoughtful look, surprised at the teen's willingness to disregard his own needs in favor of Tony's. After reassuring himself that the teen wasn't about to pass out or anything, the colonel tilted his head towards the unoccupied cushions next to the teen. "You don't mind if I sit, do you?"

Peter bit his bottom lip as he dropped his gaze, silently shaking his head as his grip on the pencil tightened. Giving a small nod, Rhodey moved around the couch and gently took a seat next to the noticeably tense teen.

Flipping open the tablet once again, Rhodey began to bring up the files once again, only this time, his attention was anywhere but. Instead, he opted to watch the teen next to him out of the corner of his eye.

Peter's right leg was now balancing on top of his left knee, his foot bouncing nervously against the cold tile floor. Resting on his leg sat another folder, sheets of crumpled paper laying on top. Locks of curly brown hair drooped down in front of the ten's eyes, but he didn't seem to pay it much attention as he fought to keep his hand steady while focusing on his work. Actually, now that Rhodey looked at them, he could make out a deep discoloration marring the teen's wrists, a mix of blues and deep purples. Before he could double-check to make sure he wasn't imagining anything, Peter subconsciously pulled his sleeves down, the skin disappearing underneath his layers.

Rhodey bit his cheek in deliberation as he wondered once again about what the best course of action was regarding the boy. He could opt to stay silent and respect the boy's obvious wishes to be left alone. But he knew that such a thing would do nothing in easing and settling the tension that already existed between them. Plus, he just _knew_ he would have to hear it from Tony about how he'd "chickened out" of talking to a fourteen-year-old kid.

With a small annoyed sigh, Rhodey set the StarkPad down and rested his elbows on his knees, turning his head to look at Peter. "Calculus, huh?" He asked with a slight tone of uncertainty.

 _Thank god Tony's basically unconscious right now or I would never live this down._

Peter blinked in slight confusion, obviously not having been expecting the colonel to wish to speak to him. "...huh?" He asked softly.

Rhodey gestured towards the papers in Peter's lap. "You know, I thought Calculus was saved for upper-classmen. Tony told me you were just a freshman."

The teen blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh right, s-sorry. Um...m-my teachers thought I s-should move up a...a couple of levels. I...I just d-didn't argue with them." He murmured quietly.

His foot began to tap faster.

"Right..." Rhodes breathed out, unsure of how he should continue, if at all. "Uhh...s-so...how _is_ school going for you, anyway?" He asked, wondering if his uncomfortableness was obvious on his face. He hoped not.

He watched Peter, expecting the teen to fumble for another response. However, the teen remained silent as he took in the colonel's question, his face growing thoughtful for a moment as his brows furrowed. He licked his lips and looked away, a small breathy laugh escaping him as he blinked rapidly, lifting his gaze towards the ceiling with a look that resembled... _exasperation?_ Rhodey didn't even think the boy _could_ look annoyed.

"What is it?" He asked, hoping to not scare away whatever flicker of life the teen was showing.

Peter glanced over at him for a moment before looking away, the small smile remaining on his face as he rubbed at his neck once again. "N-nothing, it's just that..." He trailed off for a moment. "t-that seems to be something you g-guys do." He murmured.

Rhodey furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

The teen's shoulders bobbed slightly as he huffed in amusement. "I mean...w-whenever you all are uncomfortable or something...you...you always seem to a-ask me about school or whatever. Like it's t-the only thing you're sure I actually _do._ " He explained. Rhodey noticed the teen's voice held no venom. Only a small note of sadness.

However, the teen didn't display this as he tapped his pencil against his paper, a gentle smile forming on his face as he turned to the colonel. "You don't have to do this."

Rhodey blinked back at the teen, his confusion clearly evident. "Do what, kid? You're not really making much sense right now."

That seemed to bring Peter back just a little bit as he lowered his gaze. "S-sorry. I just mean...you don't h-have to try and g-get to know me." He sighed, turning away. "I k-know this is probably a b-big inconvenience for you. Having some random t-teenager in your building and whatnot and...and I know M-Mr. Stark probably told you to t-talk to me and stuff but...b-but you really don't have to." He said, his voice gentle and kind. However, it had little effect, for his words made Rhodey want to recoil.

"I...I-I know I make people uncomfortable. You. M-Ms. Potts. Even Mr. Stark. B-but just because _he's_ putting up with me...it...it doesn't mean y-you have to, too. I...I'm just some stupid teenager and...and y-you're this super important government liaison for the _frikkin_ Avengers." He chuckled. "I k-know I'm not worth your time." He lowered his gaze. "I'm not worth Mr. Stark's time either, but I...I guess I entertain him or something, so he...he's keeping me around for the time being, at l-least until I stop amusing him so...so I guess I'll be here for a while. I'm sorry for that, too."

Rhodey felt his grip on the couch tighten.

Peter fiddled with the pencil in his grip as he dropped his head back down. "I...I can tell Mr. Stark you talked to me. I c-can tell him y-you're really cool and fun a-and whatever else you want so that he doesn't g-get mad at you."

He stared back up at Rhodes with his large brown eyes. "So...y-you can go now. Your obligation's c-complete." He said, his face conveying a look that said the kid thought he was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing, as if his words _weren't_ some of the most gut-wrenching things Rhodey had ever had a child say to him.

 _Does...does he actually...believe this?_ Rhodes asked himself as Peter turned back towards his homework. _That...that I'm only doing this cause I have to, cause_ WE _have to?_ But the innocence behind the teen's words gave him his answer.

"I...kid...it-it's not...like that-" He started, only for Peter to speak up once again.

"Isn't it?" He asked as he tossed his hand up. "It's t-the same thing all the time. Whether...whether it's here, school, those boring financial galas my f-father drags me to, everyone's always...always the same." He growled, his eyes narrowing as he glared down at the floor. "They f-find the one thing they can use in me, my brain, my work, my frikkin connection to my d-dad! And they forget everything else, as if...as if I _am_ nothing else."

He paused, the anger in his face melting away, quickly being replaced with a saddened look of acceptance. "Which...I don't know...I guess they have a point."

Rhodey could only stare back at the boy, watching as Peter collected his papers back into the folder by his side, cramming the entire thing back into his backpack. "Anyway...I-I'm sorry for taking up y-your time, sir." He murmured softly as he hoisted the bag over his shoulder and stood. "I'll...I'll leave you alone now." He said nothing else as he began to make his way over towards the exit.

The colonel watched the teen begin to leave, his words making a familiar feeling rise up in his gut. A feeling he hadn't felt in decades. A feeling that had him opening his mouth before he could think better of it.

"You know _he_ used to say the same thing."

Peter stopped in the doorway. Rhodey could see him tense as he deliberated whether or not he should actually stay. Thankfully, after a moment, the teen hesitantly turned back, a look of confusion marring his features.

The man let out a small sigh as he stared back at the teen. "Back when we were kids, or well...back when _he_ was a kid. I was, you know, the _proper_ age to be when you're in college." He said with a light chuckle.

"M-Mr. Stark?" Peter asked quietly, remembering reading up on something that had confirmed that Tony had been around his age when he'd gone to college.

Rhodey nodded his head. "Yeah. Tony was...well, I guess...a little like you." He murmured, watching as Peter continued to stare back at him with his large hazel eyes. "He was...quiet, reserved, kind of reclusive, definitely nothing like the jackass he is today." He muttered, a small hint of **joy** flaring in his chest as he watched Peter give a small laugh.

"Anyway...when I met him, he _thought_ a lot like you, too." He mused, watching as Peter slowly dropped his bag back down on the floor, hesitantly taking a seat on one of the armrests of the nearby chair.

"Considering who his father was, it was safe to assume that a _lot_ of people out there wanted to use him, and on some level...it was true. Kids would use him, teachers would try and blackmail him, even business hacks would try and coax him into revealing some of his father's secrets." He explained. "There was even a point, when we first met, that he assumed I was using him too."

Peter glanced down at the floor, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Yeah...he thought a lot like you, kid. But it wasn't true then and it still isn't true now."

The teen's eyes quickly lifted back up, Rhodey walking over to place a hand on the kid's shoulder. He could feel Peter tense up underneath his grip, but the teen didn't shy away, so he didn't either. "I know where you're coming from, kid. Considering who your dad is, I'm guessing people must try this kind of shit on you all the time." He muttered.

By the way Peter ducked his head away, Rhodey assumed he'd hit the nail on the head.

"But like I told that bumbling idiot in college, I couldn't give a tiny rat's ass about who your dad is." He scoffed, Peter giving him a strange look. "I'm not doing this for money, or fame, or to avoid getting in trouble with my best buddy - whose ass I could totally kick by the way so I don't know where you're getting your information. I'm doing this...because _I_ want to, because I want to know about that kid standing next to me, whether he's a college kid who's way out of his depth or a nervous intern working for my friend. Cause to me...he seems like someone worth getting to know."

Peter stared up at him, large brown eyes blinking up in a way that made Rhodey understand everything Tony had been rambling on about since he'd first met the teen. "Now...I'm like Tony on this one, kid. This whole thing is a little new to me, so you're just gonna have to be a little patient with me." He smirked. "But I promise I'll get the hang of it sooner or later."

The teen gave a small chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck. "M-maybe you guys should get a book on this or something. I...I think it would save you a lot of hassle."

Rhodey scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What? A _How to Talk To Your Company's Newest Child-Intern?_ You know, I think that's one of the library's best sellers this year." He muttered while Peter gave a scoff of his own. "Yep...you're definitely a f-friend of Mr. Stark."

"Hey, I take insult to that!"

The teen gave a laugh while the Colonel chuckled. The tense feeling that had settled over the two slowly began to evaporate as they sat together, and for the first time, Rhodey finally began to see what both Tony and Pepper had been talking about. Maybe this kid _was_ as good as they said.

. . .

"You wanna hear some more embarrassing stories about Tony?"

. . .

. . .

"...yeah."

* * *

 _"~Try to remember...the kind of September...when life was slow, and oh, so melow~"_

 _Tony's eyes snapped open as the music filtered into his ears. He knew this song. It was his mother's favorite. It would basically play nonstop in his house all the time. He could rely on it to be playing whenever he would wake up or visit._

 _But he hadn't heard it in decades. Not since what happened. He just couldn't. It was too painful._

 _Of course, that wasn't the_ only _strange thing going on around him._

 _He currently sat in the backseat of his father's car, the familiar feel of the weathered handle where he would scratch nervously felt underneath his hands. He could still feel the fingernail imprints carved into the wood._

 _"~Try to remember...the kind of September...when grass was green, and grain was yellow~"_

 _He turned towards the front of the car, his hands curling as he took in the sight of his mother and father sitting quietly, not saying a word. He prayed they would remain like that. God forbid they try and speak to him._

 _Ripping his eyes away from the sight, he gazed around the rest of the backseat and noticed the strangeness of it. While most of it was familiar, there were many things that didn't belong. The various bottles of scotch - empty bottles, the tools and inventions strewn about the floor, the red and blue shield laying propped up against the door._

 _Tony blinked the shock from his eyes and instead turned back towards the seat in front of him. He noticed there was a piece of paper stuck in between the folds of the leather._

 _" ~Try to remember...the kind of September...when you were a tender and callow fellow_

 _Tentatively reaching a shaky hand forward, he wrapped his hand around the paper and pulled it out, revealing it to be a newspaper. Turning it towards him, he noticed it had a large picture of both Steve, Bucky and the Rogue Avengers on the front with a tattered Iron Man suit lying at their feet, a large main headline printed above it in dark, bold,_ permanent letters.

 ** _CAPTAIN AMERICA ENDS THE MADNESS - IRON MAN TURNED TO SCRAP METAL  
American Savior kills destructive billionaire in stunning victory_**

 _He could feel his fingers curling around the paper, his breath coming out in strangled gasps. Throwing the paper down as fast as he could, Tony ran a hand through his hair as he fought to steady his breathing, though he knew it was a losing battle._

 _"What's wrong, sweetie?"_

 _He whipped his head up, meeting his mother's gentle gaze as she turned around in her seat to stare back at him. "You seem a little pale."_

 _Tony couldn't hold back his bitter scoff as he glanced over towards his window. "Yeah, well...that's rich...coming from a dead woman." He growled out, his fingernails cutting into his palms as he clenched his fists. He could hear a small huff sound from the front. "And we just can't disappear fast enough for you, huh?" His father muttered._

 _Tony narrowed his eyes, his teeth grinding together as he turned fully to stare out the window, only for his eyes to widen at the sight. Before him lay the tattered remains of Sokovia, the city burning before him as bodies lay scattered around the road, charred, bloody and broken. A large plume of black smoke billowed out into the air, turning the sky a deep shade of grey._

 _"~Try to remember...and if you remember...follow...follow~"_

 _"What is this?" He whispered out, his voice shaking as he stared back up at his parents. He watched his mother stare at him with sadness in her gaze. "You know what this is, baby." She murmured lovingly, gently touching his hand. "This is your legacy."_

 _He turned to stare back out the window, at the paper lying at his feet, at the stained shield next to him. He ripped his hand away. "No...no, I never wanted..._ this. _I just...I tried but..." He couldn't finish. He let out a soft groan as he rested his head in his hands. "I don't even know why I'm talking to you. You're dead." He growled, mostly to himself than to anything else._

 _"Are we dead? I don't know. I feel pretty real." Howard quipped from the driver's seat._

 _Tony let out an annoyed sigh and glared back out the window. However, the obvious dismissal did little to deter his father. "I can't say I'm surprised by all of this, son." He muttered from his seat, eyes never leaving the road. "It's the same thing over and over again. You screw up. You try and fix it, and in the end, you just screw it all up even more."_

 _"Gee, thanks, Dad." Tony muttered, trying not to let the true effect of the words show on his face._

 _"And now you're going about it again."_

 _As he continued to stare out the window, Tony couldn't help but sit up a little straighter as he caught sight of something in the distance, standing next to the road. He narrowed his eyes as the car drove closer, inching himself towards the window as he placed a hand against the glass. As they quickly approached, his eyes widened in shock as the car sped past Peter, Tony catching the empty look on the teen's face as they shot past._

 _"You honestly think you can help this boy?"_

 _" ~Deep in December...it's nice to remember...althought you know, the snow will follow~"_

 _He whipped back around towards the front, where his father was still speaking. His mother had turned back around to face the road, her loving eyes now nowhere in sight, leaving him alone to the mercy of his father's words._

 _"Come on now, Tony! You can barely even help yourself! And you certainly couldn't help us."_

 _The billionaire furrowed his brow, never even noticing as the surroundings outside the car began to change, the burning city being replaced with a dark, silent road, no other cars in sight save for the lone motorcycle coming up behind them._

 _"You couldn't even catch our killer."_

 ** _BANG!_**

 _Tony slammed painfully into the side of the car as it jerked back, the treeline along the side of the road speeding closer._

 _ **CRRAAASSSHHH!**_

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _"~Deep in December...our hearts should remember...and follow...follow..."_

* * *

 **Friday - March 25, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Living Quarters**

 **04:13 p.m.**

Tony jerked awake violently, his eyes wild and his chest heaving as he fought to remember where he was. taking a second to drink in the sight of the sleek walls and clean furniture, he slowly began to realize he was in the Tower. Blinking away the last remnants of his dream, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, placing his head in his hands as he concentrated on keeping his breathing even and steady.

It had become sort of a routine after every nightmare he had. Safe to say, he was basically a pro at it by now.

Still, such a thing didn't make the dreams any easier to deal with. Dragging a hand down his face, the man rested his hands against his mouth as he stared down at the floor, the sound of crunching metal and fading music ringing in his ears.

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring blankly at the tiled floors, thinking of how many bottles he could down before Rhodes or one of the others came to check up on him. Finally, a tired sigh fell from his lips as he rose up to his feet, the blanket that had been situated on his lap falling to the floor.

Absentmindedly, he reached down to pick it up, only to take note of the fact that it hadn't been there when he'd first fallen asleep. With a furrowed brow, he stared down at the cloth before realization finally pinged in the back of his mind. _And to think he didn't even bring me my sleeping mask_. He thought to himself, unable to keep the small smile from his face.

Folding the blanket quickly, he placed it down on the couch and glanced over at his watch. _I should be able to get those reactor blueprints out before Peter gets here and- oh, SHIT!_ His eyes grew as wide as saucers as he stared down at the hands on his watch, shaking his wrist frantically as he wondered momentarily if his watch was broken.

He'd been asleep for nearly _FIVE_ hours!

And Peter was already here...

 _SHIT..._

He was in the elevator before he could even blink, shouting at FRIDAY to take him to whatever level the kid was on while simultaneously cursing out his best friend for not waking him up, any and all warm feelings he'd been having towards him quickly going up in flames. He tried to ignore the ringing echo of his father's words as the elevator doors opened up onto the new floor.

Combing a hand through his hair while simultaneously placing a pair of sunglasses over his assumingly dead eyes, Tony slid his hands over his suit in an attempt to rid his appearance of any and all traces of the sluggishness he was feeling as he approached the lounge corner.

The sound of Peter's voice met his ears. He opened his mouth, a snarky quip on the tip of his tongue as he made to round the corner, only to freeze as he took in the sight before him.

"No he did not!"

"I swear! I swear he did! Anyway, it was easy for him to get the cow _up_ the stairs, but nobody could get it _down_. So all in all, the school had to call in a crane just to get it out of the stairway."

"And _nobody_ ratted him out?"

"Well I mean, once people figured out it was him, his street-cred in the school basically _skyrocketed_. Nobody was gonna ruin _that._ The respect was real. Besides, everyone was just having a good time watching the dean go into hysterics."

Peter couldn't help the laughs that spilled from him, his hands going to cover his mouth as his eyes shut, his body hunching over on the couch as he fought to take a breath. It was a losing battle. Rhodey sat on one of the adjacent couches, a similar smile on his face while Pepper stood behind him, an amused glint in her eyes. Happy sat on the armrest of another couch, his eyes rolling in exasperation while a small smile graced his lips.

"You think that's bad?" Pepper scoffed. "You haven't lived until you're in a meeting with the Senate and your boss hacks the PA system to loop the Macarena throughout the _entire_ building."

"Are you _serious?_ Peter gasped, mouth ajar as more giggles spilled out.

"They called the meeting out early. He only did it cause he was hungry and wanted some Chick-fil-A." Happy muttered

Peter exploded into another fit of laughter, only this time, the others were quick to follow. Honestly, Tony didn't know whether to be happy or annoyed. Probably a little of both, wth a sprinkling of pride. Those really were some of his best moments.

"Oo! Are we talking about me?" He asked as he decided to make his presence known. "I must say, I'm a little hurt I was excluded. You know how much I love talking about me, especially when we're talking about how wonderful I am."

He watched as all four people turned to face him, a strange feeling sparking in his chest as he watched Peter's already cheery expression grow even happier as he caught sight of his mentor, a large smile spreading on face.

Judging by the looks Pepper, Rhodey and Happy were giving him, they had caught the teen's shift as well. He cast them small glared of warning before turning towards the teen, clasping him on the shoulder. Peter only tensed for a moment before relaxing. "What's up, kiddo? Where you been, you hidin' or something?" He asked with a smirk.

Peter showed no signs of annoyance at having to wait for the man, simply beaming up at him as he glanced back over towards Rhodey. "I was just talking to Colonel R-"

"Rhodey, kid." The colonel corrected, folding his arms over his chest as he threw the teen a smile. "It's just Rhodey."

"Heh...Rhodey. I was talking to Rhodey. He has some...interesting stories about you." He said, choosing his words carefully as he gazed back up at the man. "Does he, now?" Tony asked, casting the man a look to which Rhodes held up his hands innocently.

"Well, I might just have to return the favor sometime. After all, I'm not the only one with a colorful history." He scoffed, smirk growing as he caught sight of the colonel's pale look.

Pepper let out an amused huff as she smoothed her hands along the hem of her skirt. "Well, I, unfortunately, don't have time to play games and swap stories like you boys." She teased, the men throwing her light glares as she patted them on the shoulder before resting a gentle hand on Peter's head. The teen ducked slightly before letting a small smile rest of his face. "I'll see you later, Peter." She called sweetly as Happy began to follow her out, patting the teen on the shoulder as he left.

"See you later, Happy. Bye, Ms. P - _Pepper._ " He corrected, remembering how she'd chastised him in a similar manner to Rhodey.

Said man rose up to his feet, the soft whirring of his braces meeting their ears. "I have some work to do as well. So if I'm excused from Babysitting Detail..." He murmured, ruffling Peter's hair as the teen gave him a disgruntled look (that had very little effect considering it only made him look cuter).

As he walked over, he and Tony shared a silent look. Rhodey gave a small smile to the inquisitive look on his friend's face, nodding his head in a knowing fashion. Tony glanced back down towards Peter before giving a smile of his own. _Told ya' so._ His gaze seemed to say.

"See ya' Tones." The man said, clasping a hand on his shoulder as he began to make his way out of the room. "See you later, Squirt."

Tony turned to watch him leave, his chest feeling much lighter than it had in a _while_. He rested his hand on Peter's shoulder as the teen looked up at him expectantly. "Well, you ready to go to work?" He asked with a smirk.

Peter grinned once again, his hazel eyes seeming to glow with anticipation as he began to bounce around on his feet while Tony lead him towards the elevator, the action reminding Tony of an excited puppy. "Yeah! I was thinking about those designs for the reactor and I came up with some new ideas last night!"

"Last night? You mean when you should have been sleeping and dreaming like a good little Spider-Child?" He scolded in a mocking tone.

Peter scoffed indignantly. "I _did_ dream. I dreamed about those designs!"

Tony couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that, Peter giggling by his side as they walked. After a minute, Peter's face grew thoughtful, his nose scrunching up slightly, something Tony had noticed only happened when he had a question he was a little unsure of asking.

"I know that look, kid." He called, Peter glancing up at him. "What's on your mind?"

. . .

. . .

"In your junior year of college, did you _really_ get your hand stuck in a vending machine?"

"...I paid for my Doritos. I was _getting_ my Doritos."

* * *

 **Friday - March 25, 2016**

 **Upper East Side - Rooftop Garden**

 **08:05 p.m.**

Peter stared up at the clouded, dark-grey sky, his hands folded underneath his head as he lay on the rooftop edge.

He wondered which stars were out underneath the thick layer of smog filling the sky. The only traces of light he could make out came from the moon, which hung lazily in the air above Central Park. As another brisk burst of wind flew around him, he sent another thought of thanks to the suit, which blocked the chilling winds from reaching his skin.

IT had been a relatively quiet night, save for a couple carjackers and an ATM robbery here and there. Finding himself with little to do, the Spider simply decided to climb up to his usual resting spot to take a breather for a while.

Mask resting on the ledge behind his head, Peter turned his head slightly as his eyes trailed over the lights in the distance, past the Hudson River. If he squinted, he could just make out the silhouette of his house in the shadows.

He could feel his fingers twitch slightly as he stared at the building before turning away with a tired sigh. The Cons and his father had still been out when he'd returned from Stark Tower, so it allowed him to actually eat dinner, finish his homework, and head out on patrol fairly quickly and quietly. It had also allowed him to slip on his suit without a stake of fear shooting through his heart with every thud from below or shout from the next room.

Of course, he was right to be afraid.

God forbid they ever figure out he was Spider-Man.

Peter shut his eyes tightly, his hands balling into fists underneath his head. He still remembered when he'd first gotten his powers. He couldn't have been any older than eight, maybe nine. By that point, he'd been dealing with his father's tests and experiments for years, with little to no results. With each failure, his father got worse and worse, to the point where Peter was afraid to even _look_ at him.

So, of course, when his father ran his tests to find that Peter was now suddenly enhanced, complete with super-strength, agility and heightened senses, he was both thrilled and shocked. After all, he hadn't expected any progress considering the last batch of tests had failed so spectacularly.

Of course, Peter didn't tell him that it wasn't the experiments at all, but a small radioactive spider that escaped from its container in his father's lab.

What his dad didn't know wouldn't hurt him. The same couldn't be said for Peter, however.

Since then, his father had been working nonstop to try and refigure Peter's blood, trying to recreate the effects he'd observed in his son. Of course, with the spider dead, Peter doubted the man would _ever_ be able to recreate the effects, but Richard didn't know that, so the tests continued.

Of course, that hadn't stopped his father from branching out into different areas of testing and experimentation. That was what turned the Cons from average douchebags to superpowered, evil douchebags. However, Peter knew his father would never stop trying to recreate his powers. Which meant the experiments would never stop, the robberies would never stop.

Peter could only assume _that's_ what his father needed the equipment for. New testing. New experiments. New equipment, right? After all, what else could he use that stuff for? His father's..." _activities"_ had been pretty under the radar for the longest time. After all, the police had no idea how such low-life, common robbers were breaking into such high-tech areas without triggering the alarms, so his endeavors were pretty much in the clear.

At least until Spider-Man arrived.

Granted, Peter _did_ have it a little easier, seeing as how if he evesdropped on his father and the Cons enough, he could hear the exact locations and spots they would hit in one night and prepare for them, stopping them before they even had a chance to react.

So...safe to say, his father wasn't a _big_ fan of Spider-Man. And if he ever found out that the man behind the mask, the man interfering with his business and foiling his plans was none other than the son he already ragged on constantly?

Well...Peter was certain the funeral wouldn't be open-casket.

The teen let out a small sigh and sat up on the ledge, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared out over the city. He knew the risks. He knew the dangers. Yet he still did it. There were days when he wondered why. Why would he put himself through this? Why would he make his life even harder than it already was? Why didn't he turn the other way like everyone else when it came to his father and his work?

Despite all these questions he constantly asked himself, he knew the answer. He knew all too well _"why"._

It was because everyone needed someone to look up to. It was because everyone needed someone watching their back, making sure they got to their car okay, or made sure their walk home was uneventful, or made sure their money was still there when they stopped by the ATM. It was so people like him, little people with little lives, continued to keep living those lives.

It was because he never wanted anyone to end up like him. Like May. Coming home to find out that those you love most aren't coming back.

Peter glanced over towards his side and reached over, grasping his mask. He said nothing as he stared at the material in his hands, running his thumbs over the smooth lenses.

He still remembered when he'd first donned the mask.

Despite all the shit he went through at home, there had always been one constant. Ben and May. They'd been his neighbors for as long as he could remember, and they'd always treated him like the son they'd never had. When his mother had passed away, they were right there, holding his hand when his father wouldn't. Drying his tears as he cried.

From then on, they'd continued to show their support, having him over for dinner whenever his father was away (or when he could _sneak_ away), helping him with his homework (even though he barely ever needed it), cleaning up the cuts and bruises he'd "gotten at school", never asking questions about the cuts and bruises he _definitely_ didn't get at school. They knew he would never answer them anyway.

For the longest time, May and Ben became like the parents he'd lost that night.

Then Ben was killed.

Because he just _had_ to move in front of Peter, in front of the bullet.

May didn't blame him like he blamed himself. But how could he _not_ blame himself? It seemed that everyone he loved, everyone who ever tried to protect him just ended up suffering because of it, because of _him._

He looked at that convenience store the same way he looked at the hallway closet. With guilt.

It was then that he swore to never be the one getting protected again. Instead, he would be the one protecting others. He would make sure nobody ever cried for their mom or mourned their husband.

He would make sure nobody _ever_ felt the way he felt constantly. Because nobody deserved to feel _alone._

Peter stared down at the mask for a second longer before shutting his eyes, a tired sigh slipping past his lips as he simply focused on breathing for a moment. Just in and out. Back and forth. Repeat. His fingers twitched against the mask. The wind blew strands of hair across his forehead. A scream tickled his ears.

. . .

...wait. What?

Quickly jolting into action, the teen shoved the mask back onto his head and rose up to his feet. In the distance, he could see a haze of glowing orange light crackling and illuminating the darkened sky as a plume of grey smoke rose up. Narrowing his eyes, he raised his arm and fired a web at the nearest building, leaping off the ledge as he began to swing towards the explosion.

Within a few moments, the teen was jumping on the roof of the building next to the explosion. Glancing over at the front of the building, Spidey took notice of the fact that he was standing before the East Town Engineering/ Chemical Manufacturing Building.

 _Great._

That most likely meant the explosion was caused by an inside factor. Turning back towards the building itself, Peter noticed that the bottom half of the structure was glowing a bright orange, the windows shattering as flames poured out. The rest of the building itself looked as if it'd just been hit with a category four earthquake. The people who had been lucky enough to escape before the front door was compromised stood in front of the building as the structure whined in protest. The walls were cracked and crumbling. The windows were shattered, glass littering the floor like a glittery carpet and the metal foundations creaked ominously. From inside, more rumbling explosions could be heard.

 _Something tells me this thing isn't gonna hold for much longer._ Peter thought to himself as he fired a web at the most structurally sound part of the wall before him and swung forward.

Leaping through one of the broken windows, the teen rolled along the ground of the second floor (which didn't seem to be on fire yet) before hopping back to his feet. Inside, small flames smoldered in the corners of the room, not big enough to cause him concern, however. Still, the loud creaking and groaning underneath his feet _was._

Quickly spotting two employees huddled in the corner of the room, the ground splintering underneath their shivering feet, Spider-Man leapt into action. Glancing back over towards the window, he noticed two lampposts situated right outside the window. Firing a few webs, he successfully created a hammock out of his webs, hoisted between the two posts.

Without another thought, the teen fired another two webs at the employees, tugging them forward just as the ground fell away under their feet. He could still hear them screaming as he hurled them out the window, where they landed safely on the webbing.

Moving from room to room on that floor, Spidey continued the process with every employee he found, hurling them to safety before moving on to the next one. As he continued to work, he could feel the air becoming thicker as smoke from the lower levels continued to filter through.

On the third floor, the vigilante entered the last room he'd yet to clear, webbing up the man on the floor and yanking him to safety seconds before the huge filing cabinet could land on him. Hoisting the unconscious man into his arms, Peter shuffled over towards the window and smashed it with his elbow, webbing up another safety net before hurling the man out as well. He watched the paramedics hoist him down from the webs as he turned away.

Racing towards the stairwell once again, Spidey felt his heart thudding in his chest as he caught sight of the smoldering flames that seemed to blanket the bottom floor. He felt an unsettling feeling settle into his stomach at the sight but pushed it away, realizing there were most likely more people trapped down there. People who needed him.

However, before he could launch himself down towards the lower level, a sharp tingling erupted in the back of his head. Eyes widening, he had just enough sense to launch himself towards the nearest window before another explosion shook the entire building. He could feel the heat prickling at his back as the force of the explosion propelled him through the window.

As he tumbled through the air, he could just make out the approaching roof ledge he was hurtling towards. Bracing himself to tumble against the rough concrete, Peter did not expect to careen into another large warm force as he fell. However, the grunt of pain - that didn't come from him - that sounded on impact let him know that it was _definitely_ another person that he'd just rammed into. However, he didn't have much time to process that as he rolled along the roof, shards of glass and gravel piercing his skin painfully as his limbs twisted incorrectly.

As he rolled to a stop, the teen simply lay there for a moment, struggling to catch his breath as he scrunched his eyes in pain. His ears rang painfully in his head, a sharp grating noise that made him want to hurl.

Pushing down the nausea as it threatened to spill, the teen let out a pained groan as he slowly pushed himself to his hands and knees. As he tried to fight through the blistering pain thudding against his skull, he vaguely tried to recall what it was he'd rammed into on his way up. He didn't think he'd thrown any civilians onto the roofs, but perhaps he was wrong.

As he slowly began to crack open his eyes once again, his spidey sense flared once more as the sound of a clicking safety pin tickled his ears. Snapping open his eyes, he couldn't help the strangled gasp of shock that fell from his lips at tight before him.

Of course, what reaction could one expect when they were staring down the barrel of a gun, held by none other than the Falcon as he leveled you a steely-eyed glare.

. . .

"Well... _shit."_

* * *

 **NEW UPDATING SCHEDULE: CHAPTERS WILL BE POSTED BIWEEKLY ON MONDAY/WEDNESDAY**

 **Sorry for not having this chapter done yesterday, but I've been sick for a couple days, so I lost some time to work on it. Also, since I began to notice that late updates are kind of a common occurrence, I've decided to change my updating schedule so you can still have some semblance of expectancy.**

 **Therefore, new chapters will most likely be every other Monday, but if there is no chapter on Monday, you can definitely expect it on Wednesday of the same week (she said while posting on a Tuesday XD)**

 **YAY! He finally met Rhodey! I got to say, he was a bit more difficult to write than I was originally expecting. But once I found a groove, I was able to pull it out. Still, that one scene literally took me three days to write. Like, GOD! It sucks! Being a writer sucks! Don't do it! (I don't actually mean that. It's the best thing ever)**

 **Plus, yay for you! You got to see a little more backstory with Peter and his family, especially his mom. You'll hear a little more about in some upcoming chapters so be prepared! Hehehe...**

 **Anywho...sorry for leaving off on a cliffhanger, but now you have even more of a reason to tune back in in two weeks. I was very unsure of which Avenger I should have him meet, but after some careful deliberation, I finally decided that Falcon would probably be the best so you can look forward to that in the next chapter.**

 **Spoiler! He's not the only Rogue to appear in the next chapter ;)**

 **Oh, just another little heads up, on the first week of July, I'm going to Savannah, Georgia with my family for a little getaway so I might not be able to do much work so don't freak out if there's no new chapter when that time comes. Don't worry, I'll just be taking a little break. I'll be back as soon as I can. But until then, you have more story to look forward to.**

 **HEYY! GUESS WHAT! This story has officially passed the 100,000 words mark! HOORAYYY! Jeez, I remember the first story I posted on this site. It took me like, thirty chapters just so get to 100,000 and this tory hasn't even reached ten chapters yet XD My god, if that isn't evidence of progression over the years, I don't know what is.**

 **Also, I'm so happy! This chapter alone is longer than 20,000 words. I'm so excited! I've never written such a long chapter before so I'm really proud of myself! YAY ME!**

 **Thanks to everyone for favoriting and/or following: _ayalove0, equineprobie, Anarchy in Dark Places, Apaecium INkwell, Entice00, signofthetimeshs, sirius ordo, x-Taiiwo-X, Archadian07, rkgray, HopeSpring, Lexithewitch, LizzieNight, garshaw, AiriXD, Argentum Anubis, Purpleishere, Sakura-Fiction, TerraGlassOfficial, limonacide, MissingInspiration, AcrossBeginningCharacteristics, Moosomo, SharinganWeasel, Gemtap, Shiranai Atsune, doylereborn208, poofy1024, Substitute Deathberry, bokgirl111, fandomsarelife131, mad 4 the doctor, stephanD, Besmir_**

 **Reviews:**

 **A Frozen Shadow: What is Tony but just one big overgrown man-child with a lot of money and too much time on his hands? Thankfully, he has Pepper to give him his binky of Iron Man suits and scotch so...thumbs up! Maybe Peter can rub off on him or something ;)**

 **RosettaQueen20: Gracias, chica! I got to say, Tony is a really fun character to write. He has so many frikkin layers, he's like an onion! It's just tons of fun for me to peel them away in a painful and angsty manor XD. MJ is the frikkin best. She's like, everyone's mom, drug dealer, and bitch handler wrapped up into one. Who doesn't love those three trying and failing at parenting? Though, to Pepper's credit, she is much better at it than the boys are so...IDK, man. I feel like when Tony and MJ _do_ meet *wink, wink*, it will be a very... _explosive_ meeting, to say the least. But whatever! It'll be plenty of fun so hooray!**

 **FanficFan920: Best chapter yet, huh? So you saying i can't top that one? ;) CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. Don't worry, you'll be getting _much_ more development from Tony as the story progresses, just you wait!  
**

 **Luckias: Gracias, muchacho! I love hearing that. It always makes me so happy to hear that my stories make other people happy :) Don't we all need a little cinnamon roll fluff in our lives, especially when said fluff is coming from the teddy bear that is Peter Parker. Well, now you don't have to wait. Read away, flock! Read away!**

 **repliedgrunt14 : Well how bout this man! This is my first chapter ever topping 20,000 words! I'm so proud of myself! Yay ME!**

 **Seawell :...did you just say "yippie"? that's it. Hands down. You are now my favorite thing ever. Well, here you go, sweet child o' mine! A brand-spanking new chapter all for you!**

 **Qwertywerido : Well what do you expect m to be doing at 2 in the morning? Sleeping? Pshhh!**

 **Tpni42 : Yeah, I put a lot of thought into the age thing. that's why Peter's only a freshman in this story instead of the usual sophomore. I know, man. Tony and Peter being stupidly adorable together it like, my lifeblood. It gives me the will to get out of bed in the morning XD Yeah, you don't have to worry about chapters being too short. This one is 20,000 frikkin words. WHOOO! Even _I'm_ excited about that!**

 **Phoenixhp5 : I'm noticing a trend here. Seems like the adorable stupid fluff moments are everyone's favorites. Hmm...perhaps I'll have to add some more int he future *wink, wink* Anywho, here's some more regularly scheduled angst with some action and fluff thrown in there as well. It's like a frikkin potluck here! Yeah, man! Summer couldn't come fast enough. Of course, I still have Summer Assignments I have to finish so, ugg! Guess you're never truly free, huh?**

 **StarStepper : THAN YOUUUUU! Welp, this is definitely going to be my longest story yet so you might have to wait a while for that little revelation. However, don't you fret. You'll have plenty of fluffy fluff and angst to fill you in between so yay! Yeah, Tony's character is a complex one at that, but he's really fun to write cause he's just such an intricate enigma, our little narcissist. God, I love him. yeah, and don't get me wrong, I love those father-son fics as well, I really wanted to do something different and just a little more layered so here you go!**

 **chibijenn4 : Yep, this one is nice and long for you. Dude, it is literally storming as I am typing this up. Like, the lights just went out again. Luckily I charged my laptop last night so I'm good for right now. My cats are flipping out though so that's always good. Plus my dog is following me around like my second shadow so I gotta deal with THAT now XD**

 **Ammy of Asgard: If you liked that little scene, you really have something to look forward to in the next chapter ;)**

 **StrengthenMe: Clint is...a strange fellow at that. Well I mean, he's the one who bugged Tony to expand the air vents in the first place so it would seem only fit that Tony get some use out of them sometimes as well.**

 **Archadian07 : Don't worry, man. Cuter shit approaches! Just you wait! I'm backing in the cute-shit-truck now. It'll dump out some pretty adorable turds in a minute. **

**lil cometz: Here's an idea, don't get your phone taken away and I'll reward you with new chapters! How bout that? XD**

 **BabyPinkPuppy : why is that such a mood? Honestly, I haven't updated that thing in a while. I should probably do that. Well...I would if anything in my life changed But alas, I am still the loser teenager I was when I wrote it so...whatever. Embrace the loserness! Embrace it!**

 **Agent blue rose: Tony YES! Yeah, but ever spider needs a little bit of angst in their venom so...when do things ever stay good for long. Hmm...that was good. I should put that on a poster and hang it over my bed. Just a little bit of optimism for me to see in the morning XD**

 **PS. Going to see the Incredibles 2 on Saturday so I'm literally super hyped. I've been waiting fifteen years for this. the Incredibles is literally my favorite Pixar movie, man! So excited!**


	9. Talons

**Chapter 9: Talons**

* * *

 **Friday, March 25, 2016**

 **East Town Engineering/Chemical Manufacturing - Rooftops**

 **08:24 p.m.**

Peter could feel his heart beating all the way down to his fingertips, which were poised on the ground in front of him as he rested on his hands and knees, his eyes trailing the gun in front of him. Considering he hadn't had much time to recover from the blast, the beating of his chest was fast and erratic, thrumming in frantic beats as his gaze never left the weapon before him.

" _Yes. I suppose you're right."_

 ** _BANG!_**

Peter winced involuntarily. That was a mistake. Instantly, the gun inched closer as Falcon's grip tightened. "Don't you even _think_ about moving or I swear I will blow your freaking brains out." He growled, his eyes narrowed into thin slits.

He froze at that, his muscles tensing painfully as he waited for the man to make another move, for he sure wasn't making one anytime soon, not with his brain going on the fritz. Honestly, Peter was still trying to drink in the fact that one of the Rogue Avengers was here, standing right in front of him. The Falcon! A superhero he'd admired as a kid (granted, not as much as Iron Man, but still). And here he was! Right in front of him.

Despite what some might assume considering which side he'd fought for, the separation of the Avengers disappointed him just as much as it did any other teenager his age. These were superheroes he'd grown up admiring, believing in (despite his father's best efforts). Whether it was Iron Man, Captain America or even The Falcon, they had all been heroes to him and he - just like every other kid his age - had grown up to idolize them, to adore them and dream of finally coming face to face with one.

Well...here he was. Standing on a rooftop facing off against Sam Wilson aka The Falcon, Captain America's right-hand man. The man who'd aided the Captain in taking down a horde of helicarriers in Washington DC a few years back. The man who'd fought alongside the other Avengers, winning himself into the hearts of children by being the hero he was.

And he was pointing a gun at his face.

However, now that he was getting a good look at the man in front of him, it seemed like he was just as unnerved as Peter. His unoccupied hand was resting by his side, clenched tightly into a shaking fist. Sweat trickled down his face, disappearing behind his cracked goggles before dripping down his cheeks. His uniform was messy and ripped and many pieces seemed to be missing. Not only that, his wings also seemed to be slightly damaged. Add in the fact that he was shifting his weight back and forth between his legs and Peter could safely assume the man was basically thinking the same thing he was.

They were both in some serious shit.

Of course, taking into consideration the mask adorning his face, Peter - _Spider-Man_ decided to take the first step.

"Heh...I guess this means you remember me." He joked, following up with a small nervous chuckle. He hadn't forgotten the last time he'd met the man. The sound of shattering glass and metal hitting metal rang in his ears.

Obviously, something similar was happening to Falcon, for the man's grip on the gun tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Yeah, you could say that." He growled out, his voice cold and hard. Peter's eyes remained locked on the gun before him as the man stepped closer. "Now, I'm only going to ask this once." The man said, his words slow and precise, just articulated enough for the kid to get the message across that what he was saying was _not_ to be taken lightly.

" _Who_ sent you?"

Spider-Man furrowed his brow, tilting his head slightly. "W-who...I-I don't...I don't under-"

His answer didn't seem to be good enough as the man took a few more steps forward, so much so that Peter had to flip over so that his back was facing the ground as he began to scoot backward on his hands, his gaze never leaving the approaching weapon. "Hey! I asked you a question! And I'm going to get an answer, you got me?" The man snarled, his posture stiff and rigid. The teen couldn't tell whether it was from anger or stress. He was willing to bet on a combination of both.

Peter didn't bother nodding. He could only assume it would make the man angrier. "Alright, now who the _fuck_ sent you?! Was it Stark?"

Spidey felt his fingers twitching against the concrete below him. "No...n-nobody sent me." He finally choked out, surprised at how level his voice was.

"Did you call anyone?"

"No."

Falcon narrowed his eyes and glanced away for a second, placing a hand over his mouth as he dragged it down his face, moving it to rub at the back of his neck as he kept his gun trained on the vigilante before him. "Alright. Does anyone else know I'm here?"

Spider-Man took in the man's agitated stance as he took a breath himself, taking a second to calm himself down. However, his eyes never left the gun on his face. Every second that passed with it still trailed on him was another growing bout of anxiety building up in his chest. However, he held onto his cool as he cocked his head. "Umm...not unless you count anybody in New York who watches the news."

The man gave him an odd stare. Spidey shrugged his shoulders. "Nearly every station in the city is broadcasting the live footage of you flying around all willy-nilly." He scoffed, fighting to keep his voice as flippant and unconcerned as possible, fighting to keep himself from simply slapping the gun out of his face. God, he wanted it gone NOW.

"You know, for someone who's supposed to be laying low, you sure like to fly around a lot." He muttered, thankful he didn't have to fake the same amount of coolness in his face as he did his voice. His body screamed at him to get the gun away. He could feel his heart beating in his chest like a drum.

Falcon threw him a glare but decided not to respond to the jab. Instead, he gave the teen a questioning look. "So, if you weren't sent here, then what the heck are you doing here?" He asked, fingers thrumming against the gun.

 _Get it away get it away get it away_

Taking note of the opportunity, Peter raised up his arms, careful to watch the man as he tightened his grip on the gun as he gestured towards the burning building below. "Umm... _hellllooooo?_ " He called in a mocking tone.

Exactly as he'd expected, Falcon glanced away to follow the teen's gesture. Taking advantage of the split-second distraction, Spidey shot a web out, connecting it to the hilt of the gun before yanking it out of the man's hands. Falcon yelled in response as he moved his hand towards his hip. Assuming another gun as stashed away there, Spider-Man leapt up to his feet, ramming into the man's chest as the pair rolled along the ground.

He might have admired the Falcon in the past, but he was still a criminal, and _he_ was a hero. There was no decision to be made.

He felt the concrete slam painfully against his back as he felt the man push him down, pressing his elbow painfully against his collarbone as he tried to reach for his gun once again. Rearing his knee back, Peter jabbed him in the side, pushing him off balance as he punched him across the face, careful to reign his strength back.

The force was enough to have the man flying backward, where he skidded against the roof as Spidey raised himself up to his feet once again. Whipping his head to the side, Falcon took note of the gun that had been whipped from his grasp. Leaping forward, he stretched to grab it, only for Spider-man to shoot two more webs towards his outstretched hands.

Anticipating the attack, Falcon dropped down to his knees and swept the teen's legs out from underneath him, knocking the teen down to the ground with a yelp of shock. Rolling along the concrete, Falcon twisted his wrist, revealing the small knife concealed in the fabric. Tossing it into his hand, the man tensed as he faced off against the vigilante as he slowly began to rise back up.

The pair glared heavily at each other as they tried to anticipate the other's move, both wondering who would be the first to make a move. Feeling the jitteriness of his muscles thumping through his veins, Falcon lunged first, slashing the knife forward. Peter felt the tingle of anticipation blooming in the back of his head as he ducked underneath the weapon, slamming his own fist into the man's side.

Falcon buckled, but not as much as Peter had been expecting. Instead, the man slammed his elbow painfully into the teen's shoulder, whipping his knife once again. Spidey hissed as the weapon sliced across his forearm, exposing pale skin as it ripped through his suit. Stepping back, the teen raised his arms, blocking the approaching knife once again.

Swinging his other arm forward, Peter raised his own to block it as the pair continued to exchange blows and blocks, with the occasional slash of a knife as they fought to overpower the other. Even through the mask, he could tell that the man was shocked at the vigilante's abilities to block his blows. After all, he'd trained with Black Widow, _the_ top martial artist, and combat fighter. How could this no-name vigilante retaliate against that?

Finally, Peter leapt backward, landing on his hands as he shot his legs forward, slamming them into Falcon's chest. The man stumbled backward, falling to the floor as he grunted in pain. Righting himself, the kid raised his arm, web shooters poised. He knew that if he really wanted to, he could snap the man like a twig. God knew he had the training to do so, courtesy of the Cons. Of course, that didn't mean he actually wanted to hurt him. He barely even wanted to hurt the common thugs and lowlifes he encountered on a daily basis.

Still, this fight was starting to droll on. Plus, there _was_ a building that was...kinda...you know... _on fire._

Before he could fire any more webs, Falcon lunged to the side and grabbed the gun that had been previously knocked away. Peter let out a small curse as the man raised up the weapon, bullets firing his way.

Senses tingling frantically, the teen ducked below the oncoming hail and rolled to the side, firing another bout of webs at the man, hitting him in the legs. Yanking on the webs, he watched as Falcon dropped down to the ground.

Rolling along the concrete, the man raised up the gun once again, continuing to fire as the vigilante dodged and approached. He hissed as a bullet grazed his arm, leaping to the side to avoid the barrage before lifting himself up once again, Falcon doing the same.

Before either of them could make another move, a huge _BOOM_ sounded through the air, the roof shuddering at the noise. Peter crouched down to the ground to steady himself, catching Falcon out of the corner of his eye doing the same. Against his better judgment, the teen turned away from his combatant and gazed down at the building below.

The fire was beginning to spread, the upper-level floors now aflame in a similar fashion to the ones below it. The building exterior looked as if it could crumble away in a matter of minutes, constant shudders shivering throughout the foundation as burning flames shot through the windows and cracks. But the thing that really caught Peter's attention was the faint sound of screams coming from the lower levels of the building.

He bit his lip as he felt his fists clench before tightly shutting his eyes. Whipping back around, he found that Falcon was still trailing his gun on him, but a new bout of unease was settling into his eyes.

Peter clasped his hands together and shrugged his shoulders nervously. "Umm...do you think we can put this on hold for a little while?" He asked with a small grin.

Falcon cocked a brow. "Are you serious?"

The teen tried to block out the distant sound of screaming that his blasted senses could still pick up as he let out an aggravated sigh. "Look, I don't know about you, but I still consider myself a hero. And right now," He pointed down towards the building. " _those_ people need one right now. So I'm going. I don't care about you right now. If you want, fly out of here and disappear. I don't care. Cause those people need me a lot more than you do." He growled out, leaping up onto the ledge.

He glanced back down towards the building before turning back towards Falcon. "Look,I don't know what's going on with you and the other Avengers. I don't know if you really are some evil criminals now, but..." He turned back towards the building. "If you really are still the heroes I grew up believing in..." He turned back to face him. "Then you'll prove it now."

Without another word, without checking to see the man's reaction, Peter leapt off the ledge, swinging down towards the burning inferno. Spotting another shattered window, the teen swung through the small opening and landed on the shuddering floor. Instantly, he was bombarded with a wave of heat that nearly made him stagger backward.

Shaking through the fog that had quickly settled in his mind, the boy raced into the hallway, finding that the entire floor was now ablaze, bright orange light illuminating the rooms while simultaneously casting darkened shadows along the walls, floors, and ceiling.

Pinpointing the faint sound of cries and whimpers, the kid began to make his way towards the stairs. Wincing as he pressed his hand against the super-heated metal of the handrail, Peter jerked back and glared down the stairwell. Large flames blazed on either side of the pathway, including in the center of the stairs.

Craning his neck, the teen noticed that farther down the stairs, there was a path where the flames had yet to reach. Taking a steadying breath, Spidey took a few steps back before running forward, leaping into the air as he aimed for the safe spot. Feet touching down on warm metal, the teen rolled along the ledge before righting himself.

It didn't take him long to find the door leading into the next hallway. Pushing through the doorway, the kid gasped and rolled away as a huge burst of flame rushed the door, roaring loudly as it whooshed past him. Taking another steadying breath, the teen pushed through the door and landed on the floor, the roaring flames seeming to reach for him as he entered.

Above his head, the fluorescent lights flickered on and off, sparks cracking from the shattered bulbs. Wires hung down around his face, feeding the already growling fire that blazed through the hall. Pressing his hands against the closest door, Peter leaned closer as he tried to make out whether the sounds of crying were coming from nearby.

Detecting the sound of frightened voices beyond the door, the teen took a few steps back before ramming his shoulder into the door. The already crumbling material gave way to his strength as it crashed to the floor, loud shrieks of shock meeting his ears.

Lifting his head, Spider-Man made out the shape of two huddled figures in the corner, though it was hard to see through all of the smoke billowing around the room. Feeling the familiar tingle shivering up his spine, the boy glanced up and noticed that the ceiling above their heads looked ready to collapse any second.

Rushing forward, Spidey grasped the two people and caught sight of the window pressed up against the wall, seemingly leading into the next room, which looked to be alright. The ceiling creaked and whined ominously above their heads as Peter shot forward, the two workers in tow.

Their screams rang out around him as he shot them all through the window, the group landing painfully on the other side as the ceiling caved down around where they had once stood. A harsh cough passed through his chest as the teen slowly rose back up to his hands and knees, the other two slowly doing the same. Glancing around, Peter took note that they seemed to be in a lab of some sort. On the other side of the room, there was another window, this one leading to the outside.

Before he could push the pair towards safety, however, he grabbed onto the closest one, a man. "Doesn't this building have any protocols in place for something like this?" He asked, fighting to be heard over the roar of the flames.

The man stared at him frantically for a moment before licking his lips, shakily nodding his head. "Y-yeah, the...the sprinklers were supposed to go off. They're a high-powered model to deal with these kinds of chemical fires, b-but they didn't go off for some reason." He explained. "The system operates from down in the basement, but it's probably all up in flames by now. You'll never make it down there. He stated frantically before he began to push his coworker towards the window.

Peter could still hear the flames roaring around him as he watched the pair begin to climb out the window, the man's words making his heart sink. He still had an entire floor to clear, but judging from how the ceiling had collapsed not only seconds before, it wouldn't be long until the entire building did the same. The only other way to get around it would be to put out the flames by activating the sprinkler system.

"Hold on, you said the system was in the basement, right?" He called as the man glanced back at him. "If I can get down there, can I restart it?"

The man shook his head, eyes filling with unease. "It's a dual system. To restart it, you'll have to manually override the switches and it takes two people to do it." He explained, casting one last glance towards the teen. "You can't do it alone." He said before disappearing behind the ledge.

Peter felt despair begin to clench around his heart before a new voice made him jump in surprise. "Well, then I guess it's a good thing you aren't."

He whipped around to watch as Falcon stepped through the doorway, eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest. "Now can we get a move on with this before we're both char-grilled?" He growled.

The kid didn't take the time to acknowledge the flutter of relief that washed through him at the man's presence, for he knew there was no time for such things. "We have to get down to the basement. But considering the stairwells are starting to resemble the gates of Hell right about now, we're gonna have to find another way in." He explained, casting a nervous glance towards the doorway, watching with bated breath as the fire inched closer.

The man nodded, seemingly trying to avoid glancing at the approaching flames as well as he gestured towards the door. "Come on, I think I have an idea." With that, he bolted through the opening without sparing a second glance behind him. Spidey was quick to follow as the pair quickly maneuvered towards the flaming stairwell.

The rising smoke and ash that plumed around the air was enough to make their eyes water, even Peter's, despite the mask covering his face. While he knew his suit had a filtration system for stuff like this, even _it_ was having a hard time pushing through the thick blanket of ash flying around him. With that, he cast a nervous glance towards Falcon. He knew the man hadn't been exposed to the toxic fumes as long as he had, but it was still a concerning thought.

Shaking it from his head, the pair stopped as they entered the stairwell, the dark, black clouds even thicker in the enclosed space. Yet, through the smoke, they could make out the form of the entrance door at the bottom of the stairs, a roaring patch of flame blocking their path. Not even Peter could make the jump over that, and considering the space they were in, he doubted Falcon would even be able to _open_ his wings, let alone fly them over.

Nevertheless, Peter watched as Falcon lifted up his wrist, quickly pressing a series of buttons on the screen before him. Before the teen could question what he was doing, he felt the man roughly grab his arm before hauling him back just as a pair of small missiles shot out of the man's shoulders, flying above their heads.

The missiles hit the ceiling above where the fire roared, a loud explosion rocking the small room as they hit their mark. Spider-Man winced at the loud _BOOM_ , watching as a pile of debris and tile fell from the ceiling before landing on the flames, extinguishing them for a brief moment with the huge mess of concrete and ceramic smothering it.

"Come on!" Before he could voice his shock, the Falcon was dragging him forward. After taking a second to find his footing, the teen was racing just behind the older man, slamming his shoulder into the door as he and the ex-Avenger stumbled in, falling to the floor for a brief moment to pause and take a breath.

Bad idea.

If they thought the stairwell was bad, then this room was ten times worse. The metal pipes and shiny surfaces all reflected the flaming orange lights in such a way that it looked like the entire room was just one big fire. The roaring flames seemed to cover every inch of the area, thick grey smoke hanging in the air above their faces. Off to the side, Peter noticed a sparking electrical circuit that seemed to have been ruptured from its safety tubing, igniting the nearby vats of flammable chemicals.

"Guess we found out where this fire started." He called, glancing at Falcon, who narrowed his eyes as the sparking circuit before coughing behind his hand. Doing a quick scan of the room, the kid noticed the separate system circuits and routers lined up against one of the back walls. Gesturing towards the older man at the levers, he received a nod of confirmation before they began their move.

Ducking past flames that seemed to tower above you would be difficult enough _without_ all the suffocating smoke filling your lungs and clouding your vision. But take that into consideration and the fun was simply _doubled_.

Nevertheless, the two heroes pushed through the smoke as they crashed against the back wall, panting heavily from exhaustion, the heat of the room making their heads feel as though they were full of cotton balls.

Cracking open his eyes, Peter shook the fog from his brain and caught sight of the mechanisms. Sitting against the back wall was a desk-like panel with an assortment of flashing buttons and warning lights flaring like firecrackers. Along the walls on either sides of the panel were two levers connected to the circuits and sprinkles above their heads.

As Spider-Man caught a look at the mechanism, he quickly began to understand why the man said the machine would only work with two people. After activating the panels, you needed to turn the levers at the same time. And taking into consideration the distance between the two, it would likely be impossible without two people.

Falcon glared down at the panels before casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at the approaching flames. "Alright, so how the hell do we do this?" He asked, the hoarseness of his voice drawing attention to the fact that the smoke was not doing them any favors at the moment.

Spidey said nothing as he roughly pushed past the man, ignoring the huff of annoyance as he began to reroute the systems to focus on the water pressure of the sprinklers above his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the man gazing at him in mild curiosity at his skills with the mechanics. In all honesty, Peter didn't think it was really something to be impressed at. After all, he was cracking systems like this when he was still in middle school.

"Got it!" He called as he plugged in the last series of codes. "Get to that lever over there!" He shouted as the flames inched closer, the roar filling his ears like cars on a freeway. Falcon quickly made his way over, hissing as his arm brushed up against one of the super-heated pipes. Tightly gripping the lever, Peter cast the man a small glance. His eyes widened as he caught sight of something above the man's head.

With a small grunt, the teen shot his arm out as fast as he could, his webs grabbing a hold of the man's legs. Falcon yelped in shock as he was dragged down to the ground right as a huge portion of the ceiling cracked and gave out, showers of debris raining down around him, including a particularly heavy-looking piece of concrete that seemed to have been aiming for his head. Instead, it crashed down against the pack on his back as he floundered on the floor.

"Shit!" The man gasped as he ducked his head while the last few bits of debris rained down, small sparks cracking from his pack. He cast Peter a small, wide-eyed stare before the teen made a frantic gesture towards the lever. Coughing harshly against his hand, the man rushed back up to his feet and stepped around the newly formed pile of ash and concrete, grasping the lever tightly.

"NOW!"

Instantly, the sound of shifting gears filled Peter's ears as the levers were cranked down. A loud rumbling filled the air followed by a hissing noise that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire room. After a second, a strong burst of water shot out of the sprinklers above their heads, cascades of water raining down around them.

The flames flickered and flashed in protest as they tried to fight against the onslaught, but as the water continued to pour, they eventually began to dwindle. As the suffocating heat of the room began to die out, Peter felt a burst of relief flood through him as he shocked out a gasp of relief, pressing his palms against his knees as he hunched over and tried to suck in a breath, but he was finding a great deal of difficulty in doing so.

For a moment, the teen forgot there was even anyone else in the room, at least until the sound of sirens reached his ears. "Fuck..." Whipping his head back up, Peter watched as Falcon disappeared back up the stairwell without another word.

The teen hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not he should aid the man. He glanced behind him at the levers, both now in the down-position as water continued to rain down around him. He narrowed his eyes and followed the man up the stairs.

Entering the first hallway, he caught sight of Falcon standing in the doorway, glancing uneasily at the front door farther down, flashing red and blue lights flaring behind the glass. "Can't let 'em..." the man trailed off, running a hand against his sweat-covered forehead.

Without a second thought, Peter latched onto the man's wrist, a loud shout meeting his ears. "Hey, what the-"

"Just shut up and follow me!" The teen hissed as he dragged the man down the hallway, sprinting as fast as he could against the slick tile floors, water pouring around them. Bursting out of the hallway's back door, the cold night air slammed into him forcefully, the kid resisting the urge to stop right there just to drag in the first clean breath of air he'd gotten in the past ten minutes.

Instead, he fired a web up towards the building they'd previously been atop, wrapping an arm around the Falcon's waist. Ignoring the man's indignant shouts, the teen blinked the hazy dots flickering across his vision at the clenching of his lungs as he webbed the pair into the air.

The sky wavered slightly as they quickly approached, Peter unceremoniously dropping Flacon on the roof alongside himself as he rolled along the concrete. His muscles screamed as he flopped to the floor, panting heavily as he tried to drag in as much clean air as possible. His lungs protested as he did so, harsh coughs tearing through his throat as he slowly began to shift.

Panting heavily, Peter shakily pushed himself onto his hands and knees as he blinked the black dots currently swimming along the edges of his vision out of sight. He let out a pained groan as he sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth, eyes snapping open as he heard the familiar _click_ of a gun sounding from in front of him.

LIfting his head back up, the teen noticed Falcon was now standing before him once again, a gun currently being trailed on him for the second time that night. _Damn, talk about deva-vu._ He muttered to himself as he narrowed his eyes and tossed a hand up in exasperation. "Oh, come on, man! Seriously? What the heck is your deal?! I literally _just_ saved your life and _this_ is the thanks I get?!" He growled.

The man narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well don't think that changes anything, kid." He uttered. "We're still on opposite sides of the playing fields. So don't think for a _second_ that I _won't_ blow your brains out if you even _think_ of calling anybody over here." He threatened.

Peter stared at the gun before him, the man's words shocking him to his core. As he blinked, seemingly frozen, his hands began to slowly curl into fists as the tightness in his chest began to blossom into something else. He gritted his teeth in fury. No. Not this time. This time...he wasn't going to be pushed around. That was Peter Parker.

That _wasn't_ Spider-Man.

Narrowing his eyes in determination, the teen pushed himself to his feet, despite the warning Falcon shot back at him. "Hey! Did you not hear what I just said, freak?! I swear I'll kill you if you try anything!"

Spidey glared back at the man, eyes cold behind the mask as his lenses narrowed. "No. No, you won't."

Falcon seemed to balk at that, sputtering in shock for a moment before shaking the gun slightly. "What are you, _blind?_ Do you not _see_ the gun?!"

Spider-Man didn't back down. "Yeah...yeah, I see it. But I also see who's _holding_ the gun." He growled out, his voice firm. The man's face set into a firm frown as the teen continued. "I know who you are. You're the Falcon. You were one of the Avengers. You were a hero." His words were strong. they were facts. There was no doubting them.

He glanced towards the ground. "But lately people have been questioning that. _I've_ been questioning that. And you know what I just figured out?"

" _Do_ enlighten me." The man muttered.

"You didn't have to stick around. Sure, the fugitive terrorist people are trying to label you as would have. Heck, he probably would have been the one to set up the explosion in the first place just as a means to escape under the chaos. But you didn't." He turned back towards Falcon, taking a step closer to him. Closer to the gun.

He didn't waver.

"You chose to help me. An evil fugitive would have abandoned me. Abandoned _them._ But you didn't. Cause deep down, despite the battle in Berlin, despite the public outcry, despite you all going underground, despite all the _bullshit_ you've started since this whole mess began...you're _still_ an Avenger. You're still a hero."

He stepped closer. Falcon didn't back down. The gun didn't lower.

"And despite the fact that we were on opposing sides in Berlin, you _know_ I'm not a bad person. Mr. Stark wouldn't have gotten me involved if he thought otherwise. And despite what you may or may not think of him, you know he's right on that front."

The man's frown deepened.

"You know I'm a good guy. And I know for a _fact_ that no _Avenger_ would ever shoot down another hero in cold blood. No, that's something a fugitive would do" He spread his arms out. "But hey, if I'm wrong, if you're really what they're all saying, then it shouldn't be too hard for you to prove me wrong!"

He stepped closer.

"So go ahead..."

The tip of the gun rested against his chest as he inched closer.

"Shoot me."

Flacon leveled the teen a hard glare as he held the gun to his chest, staring the vigilante straight in the face. His eyes were cold as he held the teen's gaze behind the mask. His hand never once shook. the gun never once flinched. His body remained stiff and rigid as his finger hovered over the trigger.

With an angered sigh, the gun dropped down to his side as the man turned his head away, pacing the weapon back into his holster. Unbeknownst to him, Peter was finally allowing a breath to enter his lungs at the sign of surrender.

God, that had been _way_ too close.

The man uttered curses under his breath as he clipped the leather pocket back over the gun. "Who the hell are you anyway?" He muttered as he removed his goggles with a sigh, letting out a small grunt of pain as he plopped down and took a seat on the ledge of the roof. Without the mask blocking most of his face, Peter could see the smoot and grim that was smeared across his cheeks and the small trickle of blood that pooled from a scrape above his eye from when the debris had fallen.

The teen couldn't help but scoff at the question. "I'm the mascot for the tanning salon down the street and I'm really adamant about attracting new customers, especially ones who were just exposed to terrifying third degree burns." At the man's incredulous stare, the teen glancing down at the spider emblem on his chest. "Uhh..." He gestured towards it.

"Right, right...spider-dude."

"Spider-Man, actually."

Falcon reached behind him and tugged his pack off of his back, hissing under his breath as some of the sparks burned his hand. Placing it down on the ground in front of him, he undid one of the circuit panels and glared down at the frayed wires before lifting his head back up. "I read about you. You're that vigilante that hangs around here."

Peter shrugged as he took a seat on the ledge as well, his chest still painfully tight. "Actually, Mr. Falcon, sir, I prefer the term part-time superhero assistant."

The man glanced at him before he began to tangle his hands in the wires of his pack, a small huff falling from his lips. "It's Sam" He muttered as he glared down at his pack, the small vents letting out little puffs of smoke periodically. The man sighed before glancing back up at the teen. "I don't get it, man." He growled out. "You fought _against_ us. You were with Stark. He backed up the Accords, something that should _stop_ you from doing hero work like this unsupervised." He explained. "I mean, have you even _read_ those things, or did you just go into that battle all wily-nilly?" He scoffed with a glare.

Spidey returned with one of his own. "Last I checked, my endeavors don't end up with buildings collapsing and thousands of people dying." He uttered. "Plus, the closest I've ever gotten to going international with my affairs was last week when I stopped that guy from robbing the French bakery on 42nd street. You should try their chocolate eclairs."

Sam threw him a dark glare, seemingly unamused. "We were doing our jobs."

"Without taking any responsibility for it, I'd like to add." Peter snarked back, folding his arms over his chest.

The man rose back up to his feet. "What, and _you_ do?!" He snarled.

Spidey's fingers twitched as he fought to keep a sense of calm flooding through him. He didn't have the energy to pick another fight and he really didn't want to go wrestling around the roof with this guy for a second time that night. However, he wasn't about to back down now. Spider-Man didn't back down.

"Yeah...I do." He said in a steely tone of voice. "Why do you think I'm still here?" He growled before glancing over the edge of the roof ledge, Sam following his gaze. Down below, the people who had safely been evacuated from the building were either being treated by paramedics or being rushed into ambulances. "I don't leave until everyone is accounted for and treated." He muttered before glancing back towards the man.

"Same with every robbery I stop, every cat I pull from a tree, every family I help." He leaned closer, his lenses narrowing. "My job's not done until I'm 100% sure they're okay. Whether they need medical assistance, a helping hand or just someone to talk to while they try and move past the shock, I'm there." He growled, narrowing his eyes as he glared at the man before him. "Tell me, just what do you Avengers do besides expect other people to pay for _your_ responsibilities?"

The man's hands clenched by his sides as he glowered. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Peter rose up to his feet. "Don't I?! Tell me, just what have you been doing all this time you've been underground? Playing poker with Black Widow? Karaoke with Hawkeye? Certainly not owning up to your responsibilities. No! You leave that all on Mr. Stark, don't you? Yeah, cause God forbid, someone actually make the Avengers take a little responsibility for what they've done and who they've done it to!" He snarled.

Sam turned away with a scoff. "Please, Stark is just as guilty as the rest of us."

The teen took a steadying breath. "Maybe, but at least he's trying to make it right, which is more than I can say for all of you."

The man stared at the teen, saying nothing as his dark gaze bore into the teen, who began to feel his fingers twitch underneath the freezing stare. Finally after a long moment, Sam finally opened his mouth. "You think that will be enough?" He murmured. Peter opened his mouth, but the man continued anyway.

"You think all your hard work, all your good intentions will mean anything to them, to people like Ross, like _Stark."_ He spat the word out like it was physically burning him. Peter felt his hands clench at that. "People like them...they don't care about anything unless it somehow benefits them. And anything that _does_ usually ends up biting people like you and me in the ass." He explained with a wave of his hand.

The teen glared down at the man. "He wouldn't do that. Someone like Secretary Ross is too busy to concern himself with the likes of me. After all, he's got a rogue group of superheroes to track down."

That earned him a glare.

"The only way he'd have heard of me was through that battle in Berlin, but compared to everything else, I'm just small fish." The words sounded right in his head, but something in his chest felt off. Something that hadn't come from the smoke.

"Mr. Stark wouldn't expose me. It's...he knows it's a lot more complicated for me to do something like that." He tried to explain, though he was having a hard time understanding just _who_ it was he was trying to convince.

"You seriously think someone like Tony is going to back you up when it comes to Ross and his personal agendas or whatever? You think he's not gonna rat you out, expose you to that government douchebag?" He scoffed at the teen's silence. "Please! You _can't_ be that naive!" He chuckled bitterly. "Stark doesn't care about anyone other than himself, and he's willing to do a _lot_ to prove that."

"You're wrong."

"You're just another blip to him, kid!" Sam continued as he rose back up to his feet. The anger he'd first felt when he'd found out that Stark had gone back on his word to establish peace with Steve in Siberia burning just beneath his heart, fueling his hate-filled words.

In that moment, he didn't care who it was he was speaking to. He didn't care that this kid could rat him out any second if he said the wrong thing, if he got him angry. No, he was just pissed. And he didn't care who knew it, not even the kid who'd just saved his life. If anything, this vigilante needed to hear this. He needed to realize the truth. "He'll tell you what you want to hear, give you what you want, but the second you're no longer useful to him, he'll throw you away!"

"That's not true!" Peter snarled, hands shaking by his sides as his previous insecurities were voiced to him by someone he _knew_ had much more personal experience with his mentor than he did. Sam knew Tony a lot better than him. But...but he _couldn't_ be right! He couldn't! He _wasn't_

The pain in his chest returned full force, threatening to sweep him off his feet as the distant sound of police sirens and ambulance wails coming from below them rang in his ears. Somehow, the cold night air was becoming too hot. His suit was too tight. Everything was too _loud_ and _GOD_ did his chest hurt!

"T-T-That's...that's not true..." He murmured, his voice faltering slightly.

"Hate to break it to you, kid, but that man isn't what you think he is. He didn't care about us, and he certainly doesn't care about you. He _can't._ It's just not in his nature."

"Shut up!"

"It's only a matter of time before he throws you away too!" He snarled.

" **NO!** " Peter roared, leaping forward as he slammed his hands into the man's chest, Sam grunted in shock as he was forcefully shoved to the floor. Instinctively, he reached for his gun, only to pause when he saw that the vigilante hadn't continued his attack.

"You don't know what you're talking about! He won't do that! He won't! He promised me...he **_promised_**. He said he would help me and he PROMISED!" He screamed, hands shaking as he stared down at the man, chest heaving as he fought to steal another breath of air.

He knew what would happen if the Accords ever reached him. His identity would be thrown out the window. His father would learn everything. His heart clenched at the mere thought, the air leaving his lungs. No! He was wrong! Mr. Stark would never do that to him! He knew how dangerous it would be for him. He had to know that!

"He...He wouldn't rat me out. He won't. Cause unlike all of you, I'm still here! I'm still with him! You all left! He needed you and you LEFT! NO! I know what it means to be loyal! I know what it means to take responsibility for the things I do! And I **know** he would never sell me out! H-he won't. He wouldn't!" It was getting a lot harder to drag in air as he fought to stay on his feet. The air was so hot and everything was so loud and bright and...and...it was all too much.

Sam stared up at the teen in shock, eyes wide as he watched the vigilante sway slightly.

"He said...he said he'd help me.H-he won't hurt me. He won't! You... you don't know what you're talking about. He would never hurt me! Not him! Not...not him...h-he..." He trailed off suddenly as a wave of dizziness washed over him, threatening to knock him off his feet. A small groan fell from his lips as he felt his legs shaking under his weight.

He suddenly felt something beside him, garbled words ringing in his ears as he felt strong hands wrap around his shoulders. Instinctively, he lashed out, though his efforts were weak enough for the man to keep his grip on him, words echoing in his ears slowly, as if he were underwater.

" _Wh...asy...easy...old up...ing t...help..."_

Another small moan escaped him as his chest twinged tightly and his head flared painfully. Cracking open his eyes, he saw that Sam was now standing next to him, seemingly holding him up as he gently began to ease him to the floor. IF Peter didn't know any better, he might say the look in the man's eyes resembled concern. God, he really must have been out of it.

He had to stop doing this. This was the second time he'd exploded like that on somebody, the memory of this happening with Mr. Stark sliding back into his mind. He had not idea what brought it on, but he knew that it had _something_ to do with stress. His mind wouldn't let him realize that it also had something to do with when someone told him something he didn't want to hear, a truth he didn't want to believe.

He felt the cold concrete through the material of his suit, Sam maneuvering him so that his back rested up against the ledge of the roof. A grunt of pain forced its way past his teeth as he greedily sucked in a breath.

As he finally began to catch his breath, he could hear Sam speaking to him. "Hey...are you okay?" He asked, his voice tight.

Peter didn't respond for a moment, too afraid that if he tried, it would just send him into another coughing fit. Finally, after a few more seconds the teen cleared his throat and gave a small nod of his head, his lungs still aching at the smoke that had damaged them. He knew he'd been in the building for longer than Sam, he just hadn't realized _how_ long or how much smoke he'd actually inhaled despite the suits filtrators.

Peter gave a violent cough before giving another nod. "Y-yeah...yeah. I-I'm...okay."

Sam stared at the vigilante before him, the kid feeling the man's gaze pierce through him as he seemed to take in the sight before him. His face was hard as he stared the teen up and down. He couldn't deny that the vigilante's voice, the small, pathetic sound had reminded him of...of... Finally, after a moment, he opened his mouth, his brows furrowed. "...How old are you?" He asked, a hint of suspicion behind the words.

Spidey winced slightly as he stared at the ground, hoping the man hadn't caught his flinch. Judging by the way he curled his fists, he doubted he was so lucky. "Umm..." HE murmured, trying to figure out a way to avoid such a question.

Unfortunately, Sam seemed to deem the teen's stutter as answer enough. "Tell me you're an adult. Tell me you're over eighteen." Sam shouted more to himself than anybody else.

Peter clenched his fists and glared up at the man, seeming to find enough strength once again to speak. "Would you chill out for one second? Geez, I'm nineteen." He muttered, continuing at the an's questioning glare. "I'm just fighting my way through the last few stretches of an annoying cold. Now can you stop throwing insane accusations like a monkey, please?" He growled.

Sam glared down at him for another moment before letting out a tired sigh, grabbing a seat on the ledge once again. He stole a small glance over his shoulder at the cops still milling around the building. He knew he couldn't leave while there were so many of them around, so he'd have to make due talking to the annoying vigilante before him.

Speaking of, the man let out an indignant yell as the teen grabbed hold of his pack and brought it closer, inspecting the wires inside without even a word. "What the hell-" He started, only for Spidey to cut him off. "Do you know anything about fixing severed wires and circuit plates while not causing any more damage to this thing?" He asked.

Sam paused for a moment before letting out a huff, Peter taking that as a sign of submission as he began to work on repairing the pack.

The Avenger stared at the vigilante as he worked, taking in the sight of the hero. He was pretty short for a near twenty-year-old, which is probably what had given him the impression that maybe he was still in high school or something. He was also pretty lanky, but considering he was still sore from their fight from before, Sam knew better than to judge the teen based on his looks. It was obvious he was enhanced somehow. It reminded him a little of Steve.

"Where the hell did Stark find you anyway?" He asked, resting his cheek against his fist as he propped his elbow up on one knee.

Spider-Man glanced up at him before turning back to the pack. "It was a couple days before Berlin. He showed up at my house, said he knew who I was and that he needed me to help him stop...well, you guys." He explained, Sam giving a small scoff. "Anyway, he updated my suit and whisked me off." The teen paused for a moment. "I thought it was just a one-time thing, you know? I'd help out a little, do what I could, and then he would take the suit back and dump me right back where he found me."

The Avenger folded his arms over his chest. "Didn't he?" He asked with a deep frown, knowing hat sounded a _lot_ like what Stark would actually do. Which was why he was surprised when the teen continued.

"No...no he didn't. I mean, that's what I _thought_ he was gonna do and that's certainly what I was _expecting_...but he didn't." He stared down at the wires, his hands pausing in their movements. "I-I don't know why he's bothering with me. I don't know why he's keeping me around but..." He trailed off for a moment before he began to continue working on the pack. "But he is. And I'm grateful for that."

Sam stared at the teen before giving a small shake of his head. "I don't get it, kid. Why are you so hung up on this asshole? I mean, from what you're saying, he basically just used you to get what he wants." He muttered. He had to admit, it did surprise him a little that Stark was apparently taking interest in the kid, but he knew it couldn't last. It never did with Tony.

However, that didn't seem to be what Spider-Man thought as the kid gave him a small glare. "You know...I'm trying to be nice and keep this little conversation just between you and me. And if you want to keep things that way, I suggest you cool it with the insults, jerk-wad." He growled before ripping out another wire much harsher than he needed.

Sam stared at the teen before turning away. Maybe it _wasn't_ the best idea to piss this kid off anymore, especially considering he probably had Stark on his speed-dial or whatever. He rolled his eyes to cover up his insecurities before the teen began to speak once more. "Can I borrow that knife of yours?"

At the man's mistrusting glare, the kid rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's the final item in my master plan of luring you to this remote building, stealing your pack, _killing_ you and then stealing your sweet knife. I'm a genius, aren't I?" He deadpanned. The man scoffed and pulled his knife out once more, tossing it to the vigilante. Peter caught it and used the sharp tip to pry one of the pane away from the rest of the metal, digging through the newly exposed wires.

He sighed as he continued to twist the wires of the pack. "I'm used to being used by other people so that front doesn't really bother me when it comes to Mr. Stark. The only difference is h-he...he's..." He let out a small sigh. "He's the only one who's ever bothered to stick around." He muttered. Sam blinked and leaned forward slightly. "He...I don't know, he _listens_ to me. Somehow, he finds time in his unbelievably busy schedule to make room for a stupid kid like me. I don't know...I guess I just interest him. I'm sure it can't last but..." He gave a small smile beneath the mask. "But I'll enjoy it while it does."

Peter didn't say anything after that and Sam didn't push him to. The pair simply sat in silence as Peter continued to work on the man's wings, the sound of sirens blaring from the distance, an occasional flash of red and blue streaking past.

After a few more minutes, Spidey closed up the metal panel on the pack and turned back toward Sam. "There. That should hold up until you get back to wherever it is you've been holding yourself up." He stated as he rose up to his feet, handing the man his pack.

Sam took the pack with a small nod of his head. "Thanks..." He murmured quietly as he silently slipped the wings back onto his back. As he did so, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Spider-Man was staring at him, not even trying to hide the fact.

"What?" He asked with a cocked brow as the teen continued to stare. Peter said nothing and for a moment, Sam wondered whether or not he would speak at all. After another second, he finally opened his mouth. "Why did you let them film you?"

"Huh?"

"Those people." Peter continued. "I've read your Wiki page." He uttered, ignoring the man's eye roll. "You used to be Para-rescue. Stealth is right up your alley. And those pictures wren't shot by professionals hiding in trees, disguising themselves as squirrels and whatnot. So that means you let them take those pictures on purpose. Why?"

Sam stared down at the teen for a minute before a small humored huff fell from his lips. "Not bad, kid." He uttered quietly as he gave a small smirk. "Misdirection, kid. If people think we know that _they_ know we're here, then it's unlikely they'll assume we're still here. They most likely will assume we got scared of capture and continued right along." He explained.

Peter hesitated before giving a small nod. "Hiding in plain sight."

"Exactly."

Spidey gave a small chuckle as the hero nodded, the man's gaze turning back to the sky as he scanned the area for the clear away. Peter stared after him, fingers twitching by his sides as he debated whether or not he should keep his mouth shut. Finally, after a few more moments of internal debate, the teen realized he couldn't keep silent any longer.

"He's not what you think he is."

The Avenger knew who he was talking about wthout him having to even say the name. He let out a small scoff and turned back towards him. "Trust me, kid. You don't wanna _know_ what I think he is." He muttered.

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Look, I know things are kinda bad with you guys, you and all the other Avengers...but you're not the only victims here, you know." He growled out, folding his arms over his chest. "This has been hard on him too."

Sam glared back at him. "Oh, yeah? I don't see _him_ having to hole himself up in some abandoned warehouse just to make sure they don't throw you back into a cell." He snarled darkly, fists clenching.

Spidey returned the glare just as fiercly. "At least you're free."

The man continued to glare, although his expression became more one of confusion at that. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Peter let out a sigh of exasperation. "Oh come on! You honestly don't think Mr. Stark doesn't have the capabilities to track you guys down?" He asked. "He had some of the most advanced tech in the world. You think he doesn't know how to trace you guys? You think he hasn't had the opportunity to turn you in already?"

"If you're trying to get me to warm up to him, I hate to say you kinda suck at it." Sam muttered.

"You're missing the point!" Peter cried. "If he has the capabilities to turn you in, why do you think he hasn't done it yet?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Probably cause he's waiting for the right opportunity to tell Ross that suits him best." He uttered, trying not to acknowledge that small spark of uncertainty that had entered his mind.

Peter seemed all too quick to pick up on it though." No...he hasn't done it because he doesn't want to see you all locked up like animals again." He explained quietly.

The man let out a small sigh as he turned away, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but the last time Stark saw us, he wasn't exactly too pleased. What makes you think he gives a crap about whether we live or die?"

He expected the teen to go off again, which only made him blink in surprise as the vigilante instead seemed to deflate slightly, his shoulders going slack as he glanced down at the ground. "You really don't know anything about family, do you...?"

Sam startled at that, blinking down at the kid in shock as he let out a small breath before giving a small chuckle, glancing up at the sky. "Yeah well, let's just say I've had some pretty weird experiences when it comes to my 'family'" He murmured.

"Trust me, I get it."

He turned back to the vigilante at the dejected tone of voice. Taking in the sight of the vigilante as he wrapped his arms around himself, Sam couldn't help but think the teen seemed... _smaller_. However, just as suddenly as the change had come, it was gone and Spider-Man, the annoying, loud-mouthed vigilante was back in front of him.

"He tries to hide it. I haven't been around long enough to really tell, but I know that losing your entire family isn't something people can take lightly, and Mr. Stark isn't an exception in this case." He explained. "So don't go pointing fingers all willy-nilly, alright? Cause at the end of the day, you all have something to feel guilty over." He murmured before glancing down at his hands, now seeming a bit unsure of himself before he continued.

"You know, growing up, you were one of my heroes." He sighed. "The other Avengers too. And...and you all still are." Sam said nothing as the teen spoke. "I know you're not the bad guys." He stared straight at the man. "But neither is Mr. Stark."

Sam stared at the teen, the wind whipping around them as distant sirens continued to wail. "So then who is?" He murmured. There was no malice in his voice, no hatred. Only a sense of defeat.

"Does there have to be a bad guy?" Peter asked.

Sam sighed. "There's _always_ a bad guy, kid."

Spider-Man said nothing, _could_ say nothing as he stared down at the ground. He let out a tired sigh before moving away. Sam stared at the vigilante as he went over to sit on the ledge, glancing down at the departing cops and paramedics. The man continued to stand, blinking down at his feet as the teen's words continued to ring in his ears.

He had to admit, the kid had a bit of a point. For the longest time, since Steve had broken him out of the Raft, he'd been...well he'd been pissed. So were the others. After everything that had happened, everything they'd been through, it was all just thrown away. And for what? Cause some billionaire asshole just suddenly decided he trusted the word of a bunch of government douchebags instead of his own teammates? His own fam-

He stopped himself from completing that thought. He knew it wasn't true. They weren't family. They never were, and this little shitstorm just proved it. Still...that didn't stop the man from wondering why he still had thoughts like that if it wasn't.

He glanced back up at Spider-Man, whose back was now to him as he continued to stare down at the dispersing cars. Safe to say, the kid was annoying as hell, and a bit of an asshole. _Guess Stark is already rubbing off on him._ He muttered to himself. Yet, he still couldn't help but feel a little bit of respect for the vigilante.

It was obvious he was a good kid at heart, his willingness to sacrifice his own safety for the wellbeing of those civilians was enough to prove that. Plus he was a pretty good fighter at that. Still, he was good enough to have Sam wondering why he was involving himself with someone like Stark, why he was concerning himself with an asshole like him.

 _"He's not what you think he is."_

Sam let out a small sigh. In the few years he'd been an Avengers, he'd never truly become what one would call "close" with Tony Stark. After all, the dude was basically a grade-A douche. He was a rich, narcissistic playboy who seemed to only care about himself, and he was _not_ someone Sam would usually find himself associating with.

Still, after some time had passed, Sam could honestly say he'd begun to see the man as...as a friend. Sure he was still as annoying as ever, but hey, so was Clint. Sure, Tony was rude and sarcastic and never seemed to take anything seriously, but Sam could tell that was just a facade. He'd been dealing with traumatized military soldiers for long enough to tell when someone is putting up a front, faking a smile, lying through their teeth.

He knew Tony had had it rough. Hell, they all did. But he also knew that _they_ didn't have the press and paparazzi following their every move. They didn't know what it was like to grow up with cameras flashing and people yelling and judges criticising your every move. They didn't know what it was like to _pretend_ just to survive.

 _"This has been hard on him too."_

sam lifted his arm and ran a hand across his face, now truly feeling just how exhausted he was. He glanced back over towards Spider-Man, a flash of hesitation sparking in his brain before he waved it away, letting out a small sigh.

Walking over, the man placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. Spidey shrugged him off immediately, but Sam didn't take offense as the teen turned towards him. "Listen, I need to warn you about something."

"If you're gonna try and convince me again that Mr. Stark's dangerous, then you can g-"

"No, that..." He paused with a loud sigh. "that's not what I was going to say. I mean, I'm trying to warn you about the reason why I'm here." He explained. The vigilante shut his mouth and turned fully around to face him. "We've been stationed out around here for the past few weeks." He started. "There's been hints of an underground organization that's been hijacking government trucks loaded to the brim with stolen alien tech."

"Alien tech? Where the heck are they getting alien tech?" He asked.

Sam shook his head. "Damage Control is still trying to clean up the mess from when the Chitari invaded a few years back." He explained "Anyway, they've been stealing the tech and manufacturing it to make weapons." He explained.

Spidey nodded his head slowly. "Alright, alien weapons." He shook his head quickly before glancing back up. "I'm sorry but doesn't an underground gang making weapons seem a little, I don't know... _below_ your pay grade? Especially considering you guys kinda have to keep a cover?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Not when their buyers are suspected Hydra officers."

Peter's eyes widened. "Oh..."

The man nodded. "Yeah, _oh."_ He turned away. "Anyway, we don't know if their buyers are _here_ , but we do know this is where the weapons are being made." He explained. "So...just keep a heads up for stuff like that, alright kid? And _definetly_ don't try and take out anyone you think might be _Hydra_ -affiliated, kay? You are definetly not equipped to handle people like that."

The teen folded his arms over his chest. "Hey! I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much." He muttered indignantly.

Sam couldn't help but give a small scoff at that. "I'm sure you can, kid. Just..." He paused for a moment. "...try not to get yourself killed, alright? I'm just...I'm just warning you so you'll be careful, m'kay?"

Peter couldn't help but smirk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that sounded like concern in your voice."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Smart-ass." He muttered as he began to walk over towards the edge, his wings flaring out from the sides of his pack. He barely caught the teen whispering " _Awesome"_ under his breath, but it was enough to have the man smirking.

Still, he wiped the look from his face as he turned back around. "You're not gonna tell Stark about this, are you? About... _me_ being here?"

The kid said nothing for a moment and for a second, Sam felt a flutter of concern pass through him, but it was dispelled as the vigilante finally looked up. "He already has enough to deal with right now. I don't need to worry him about this, too." He sighed before glaring back up at the man. "Just do me a favor. Don't become something that we _needs_ to worry about, alright?"

Sam stared down at the teen before letting out a small breath. "No promises, kid."

Spidey glanced down at the ground before giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "Just as well. I wasn't about to trust any promises you made to me, anyway." He muttered.

The Avenger couldn't help but smirk at that. "Now you're learning, kid." He called as he leapt into the air, his wings instantly catching the wind as his propulsors took him soaring into the air. He refused to let himself look back at the teen, though he couldn't deny the fact that he was pretty sure the teen waved bye to him from the rooftop.

* * *

 **Friday, March 25, 2016**

 **Springfield Blvd - en route to Parker Residence**

 **09:12 p.m.**

Peter landed with a small grunt on the roof of the building, exhaling loudly as he fought to get a steadying breath. Even though some time had passed, it was obvious his lungs were still pretty sore from the beating they'd taken from the smoke. He was still finding it hard to breathe properly.

The teen lifted himself up and removed his mask, a small sigh of relief falling from his lips at the cooling breeze that whisked past his face. Taking note of the ashiness and grime he could feel through the gloves of his suit, he was pretty certain he looked like he'd just finished cleaning out a chimney for an abandoned 19th-century mansion or something.

He glanced down at the mask. He knew it probably wasn't the smartest thing to swing around town without it on, but the thought of placing the suffocating piece of cloth back over his head, sealing himself off from the calming breeze...he shuddered slightly before stashing the mask into one of his pockets.

Whisking his arm back out, a thin line of webbing shot out, connecting to the top of the next building. Leaping off the edge, the familiar feeling of weightlessness entered his stomach as he swung through eh air, the wind blowing through his hair as he flew.

Shooting out another web, the teen began to continuous motion of swinging back and forth between hands. While he did so, he couldn't help but think back over Sam's words, over his warnings.

He hadn't seen anything that resembled _creepy, evil alien junk_ or whatever, but there was something that discouraged the notion that the man might be lying to him. Still, it seemed like something he would have noticed by now.

 _Yeah, well you're usually off gallivanting with the Cons so it's not like you got much time to look, idiot._

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch at that. He knew the Cons were prone to stealing high-tech weapons like that when they weren't off creating their own. He knew it couldn't be much of a stretch to consider that maybe they were trying to buy some of that tech as well. It seemed... _illegal_ enough to catch their attention.

Still, Sam had mentioned something about Hydra...

Peter wasn't an idiot, that was for sure. They'd discussed the secret, underground terrorist organization plenty of times in school. It was the usual jist: origins, Nazi affiliation, secret branches, all that jazz. This was Avengers level stuff, especially considering the fact that not even six years ago, secret Hydra files had been leaked onto the internet. Of course, they'd been heavily encrypted and not much had been cracked before the files were wiped from the system. But it was enough to alert people that this group was still out there. Still plotting.

No...Peter _wasn't_ stupid, despite what his father might assume. He knew that Hydra was _way_ out of his league. He also knew that according to Sam, they were a part of this weapons trade somehow...

The teen lowered his gaze for a second as his body automatically continued to swing forward. He knew his father was bad. He knew the Cons were bad. He knew that they were doing was _bad,_ granted his view of the complete picture was painfully blurry. B-but to assume that they had _anything_ to do with something like Hydra, the idea made Peter want to laugh. No. Hydra was a professional, legit terrorist organization. His father and the Cons were just crooks. Crooks and mad scientists with way too much money and equipment on their hands, not to mention _unwilling_ participants...well, _participant._

Peter gripped the next web tightly as he released his hold on the other, swinging forward as he continued to fly.

Maybe he should inform Mr. Stark about this. After all, if it had something to do with Hydra, then it was obvious the man needed to know. He was _much_ more equipped to deal with something like this than he was. Of course, his explanation for the situation he knew would lead to inevitable questions, specifically as to how he'd managed to acquire said information.

He knew he shouldn't have felt guilty. Not at all. Sam Wilson was a criminal. He was a Rogue Avenger, NO! He was one of the Avengers that had hurt his mentor, if not physically, then emotionally. He shouldn't have had any hesitations.

But he did.

And he hated himself for it. But what else was new?

The teen let out a small sigh as he continued to leap from one web to the next, the wind continuing to cocoon him in a flurry of whooshing blows and blinding breezes. As he thought back to the billionaire, Peter couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the man found out about him talking to the Avenger, or better yet, what he would do if he came face to face with Sam.

He wanted to believe that the man would keep a level head, that he would be rational and calm enough to deal with the situation smartly, smoothly, exactly how he handled everything else: with confidence.

And yet, Peter couldn't help but remember the pain that had been etched onto the man's face up on that rooftop when he'd confessed to Peter, the betrayal in his tone of voice, the anger behind his clenched fists. And even if the man _could_ stay calm and keep his emotions in check, the Accords were still another standing obstacle.

The Accords...

Peter felt his stomach flip painfully as the documents circled through his mind. Peter wasn't blind. He knew what those documents entailed. He agreed with them. He knew that responsibility was not something to be avoided, not something to ide from, to deny. He knew firsthand. Still, it was impossible to ignore the concerns he had for said documents, especially in regards of what they entitled for him.

 _"You seriously think someone like Tony is going to back you up when it comes to Ross and his personal agendas or whatever? You think he's not gonna rat you out, expose you to that government douchebag?"_

He knew Mr. Stark wouldn't turn him over. He knew that. Even though their time spent together had been short and few, it was enough for him to tell that the man seemed to enjoy their company, for whatever reason. And...and he could honestly say that the feeling was mutual. Well, he didn't know if he'd go _that_ far, but...but it was certain he felt _something_ when he was there, at Stark Tower.

It had happened again just earlier that day. When he'd been talking to Rhodey. At first, he felt how he always did. Awkward and shy and uncertain of himself. He knew _logically_ that strangers weren't prone to slapping you across the face when you spoke without permission...but...but Peter could still barely ever bring himself to do it. He _hated_ breaking the rules, even when he was outside the house, for he was deathly terrified of having such actions, such behaviors, such _confidence_ rub off on him.

Still, in a similar fashion to Mr. Stark and Pepper, Peter found himself openly speaking to the Colonel, granted after some gentle coaxing from the man. Not long after that, Pepper and Happy had joined them.

Usually, such a growing number of people would have set Peter on edge, but for some strange reason, he'd found himself unable to do such a thing, not even when _Happy_ began to join in on the conversation, and he knew he wasn't the man's favorite person. Perhaps there was just something about being exposed to _actual_ threats on a daily basis that took away some of the grumpy man's intimidation.

Nevertheless, as they'd spoken and swapped stories to the ten, Peter had begun to feel something, something strange tingling in his chest. He didn't know what it was. The only other times he had felt it was when Mr. Stark had reassured him after his meltdown in the lab and again when he'd cleaned up his wound. At first, the returning feeling had startled him, but as time wore on and the stories continued, he found himself relaxing to the warm feeling, even going as far as to notice it grow _immensely_ when Mr. Stark had arrived to take him down to the lab.

Safe to say, Peter had never really had great experiences with other adults, especially new strangers. But for some reason, he found himself _enjoying_ the company he found himself in whenever he ventured to Stark Tower. And...crazy as it sounded, he was also beginning to wonder whether or not they enjoyed having _him_ around as well.

Rhodey's words rang around in his head, doing their part in solidifying the teen's thoughts. Not to mention the fact that Mr. Stark _had_ to have found _something_ interesting about him. What it was, he had no idea, but it was obviously enough to keep him around for a little while longer. Peter couldn't help but hope that it played out for as long as possible.

He knew it was a stretch. Not many people could tolerate him, his father going the extra mile to drive that into his skull. But for some reason, he didn't get that same icy despair he usually felt around other adults whenever he was in the tower, with the others, with Mr. Stark.

He thought back to the eccentric billionaire, a small smile tugging at his lips as he landed once more on a nearby rooftop. From here, he could make out his house, but his mind was focused on more... _uplifting_ thoughts.

He couldn't help but get excited whenever he thought of Mr. Stark. Hell, just earlier that evening, he'd practically bounced out of his seat when the man had entered the _frikkin_ room, the others getting a kick out of that.

He knew it probably wasn't the most tolerable thing. If anything, the billionaire probably found it annoying, but he just couldn't help himself. For some reason, he found himself unexplainably excited, strangely... _happy_ whenever he was with the man. And he had no idea what for! He...he just _was._

Such a thing should have scared him. He wasn't used to not knowing. He didn't _like_ not knowing. But for some reason, with Mr. Stark...it seemed... _okay._ Maybe it was the carefree tone he always used. Maybe it was the cocky smile and lackadaisical attitude. Hell, maybe it was just the fact that he seemed... _not_ angry when Peter opened his mouth and began to babble on about the dumbest things. It was like the man didn't care when the teen looked him in the eyes. He didn't care when Peter made a mistake.

The teen lowered his gaze as he fiddled with his fingers, hesitant to continue moving, to continue his trek home. As he continued to mull over the thoughts swirling around his head, he slowly began to piece the fragmented bits and pieces together. And as he did so, the slow conclusion he was beginning to move towards made his heart hammer. He was starting to understand, if only a little bit, why he seemed so comfortable with Tony Stark.

He seemed trusting.

And that scared Peter more than anything.

That was Rule #1. That was the one rule you could _never, ever_ break. Not fully, at least. Oh, sure. There were a few things that could slide. Getting close with Ned. Revealing his identity to Mr. Stark (well he kinda had no choice in that). Accepting the man's internship offer. Those things...those things...he could get away with.

But then there were the things he absolutely could never **ever** reveal.

He stole a small glance towards his house before a small sigh fell from his lips. There was only a small handful of people who knew what life was like for the teen at home, including Ned, who only truly knew because he'd been with the teen since middle school. Ned wasn't stupid. Peter had shown up with enough bruises and broken bones for him to figure it out.

Still, Rule #1 burned brightly in Peter's head, carved in like a marker. Bold. Permanent. It was the reason he never openly told his best friend. He never spoke about home if he could avoid it, and for the most part, Ned respected such things and they left it at that.

Safe to say, Mr. Stark would not leave it at that. On the off chance that such affairs even _mattered_ to the billionaire, Peter couldn't risk the chance of him going to try and do something about it, or _worse,_ going to the police.

Peter felt his heart begin hammering and his mind splinter painfully as a thrumming headache blarred behind his eyes, the mere thought nearly sending him into a panic. No. He couldn't have that. He just couldn't.

As much as he enjoyed being around the billionaire, he knew that he could never, **_ever_** trust him with this.

Peter shut his eyes and took a deep breath, repeating the action a few more times as he fought to tame the throbbing pain blaring in his head. After a moment, he was finally able to push it back. Running a hand through his hair, the teen let out a small sigh and leapt up to the building edge, firing another web as he began to swing closer.

Despite that crushing truth ringing in his ears, he knew that it couldn't stop him from enjoying the billionaire's company, if only for a little while, in the time they had together before Mr. Stark finally got sick of him. Landing on the roof of his own house, the kid couldn't help but chuckle at one of the billions of jokes the man had snarked earlier that night.

With only a moment of hesitation barring his actions, Peter reached behind him and pulled his mask back out, staring down at the large reflecting lenses as he ran his thumb over the material, a small smile forming on his lips.

 _"It's alright, Peter. I promise it is."_

Mr. Stark had made this suit for him. _Just_ for him. He'd decked it out in a blaze of awesome gadgets and cool sensors, most of which saved him from some pretty painful injuries that he was sure would fall upon him had he not had the suit. Safety features the billionaire had installed as to make sure the teen didn't get hurt.

 _"Look, kid, like it or not, we're in this together now."_

Such things made the fantastical thought that maybe the man truly did care for him breeze through his mind like a lovely dream. Such things had that dream seeming more and more like a reality, if only a little bit.

" _Yeah...silver linings."_

Peter took in a deep breath as another breeze flew past him, the cool air helping in clearing and loosening up his lungs, the air freely flowing through them now. The teen lifted his head and glanced in the direction of where he'd met up with Sam.

 _"Hate to break it to you, kid, but that man isn't what you think he is. He didn't care about us, and he certainly doesn't care about you. He can't. It's just not in his nature."_

The kid gave a small smirk. "Guess you're right, Sam...He _isn't_ what I thought he was." He shoved the mask back into his pocket. "He's better."

If what Mr. Stark said was true, if those private moments had meant anything, then Peter had to _believe_ that the man would have his back when it came to the Accords. He would have to have faith.

Peter pushed down the fear that such an idea created.

Letting out a small breath of preparation, the teen glanced down over the edge of his building and noticed that there were no cars in the driveway. A sigh of relief bubbled past his lips at the realization that he wouldn't have to dodge the Cons for at least another night. Crawling down the side of the building, his feet created a small _thump_ as he landed on his balcony.

Sliding the glass doors open, Peter entered the room and threw the mask onto his desk, flipping over his bed as he landed on his desk chair, shooting a web towards the now open door to slide it close once again. Reclining back in the chair, the teen pressed his fingers against his eyes as he let out a tired groan, his muscles aching as he finally took a second to relax, with no new surprises jumping out at him.

A small _squeak_ from the others side of the room had him cursing his big mouth as he startled in his seat, whipping his head up as fast as he could. There, sitting on the couch in front of his TV was Ned, the teen staring at him with wide, unbelieving eyes as he held the pieces to an unfinished Lego structure, his mouth hanging open.

Peter instantly shot to his feet, Ned doing the same thing as both boys pointed incredulously at each other, unintelligible moans of disbelief falling from their mouths at the same time.

"Duhhh..."

"Y-Youu..."

"Nuh-uhh..."

"Yeah-huh..."

Peter felt his heart jump up to his throat as he stared at his best friend. "N-Ned, what are you _doing_ here?!" He practically screeched.

"You said your dad wasn't home tonight so you invited me over!"

"I did?!"

"Yeah!"

"...Oh..."

The teen placed a hand to his head as he fought to reign in his breathing. "That's...I...I don't..." He murmured as he tried to suck in another breath of air, his lungs growing suspiciously tight again.

Ned, however, seemed oblivious to his friend's plight as he practically bounced up and down. "This is...I mean... you're _SPIDER-MAN!"_ He shouted. "My best friend is _Spider-Man!"_

Peter gave a small shake of his head as he tried to speak. "Tha- I...I'm not..."

Ned scoffed. "Don't even _try_ and sell to me that you aren't! You just crawled along the windows, did a flip across the room and webbed the door with those cool shooty things and can I see those actually cause I-"

"Ned!" Peter finally shouted, groaning as he placed a hand to his chest. "Listen to me, I-"

"Oh my god. Oh MY GOD! I know Spider-Man. I _actually_ know Spider-Man! Ha! This...this is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me! I don't...I mean...can you frikkin believe it? Well I mean, I'm sure you can cause you know...you're...you know..you're _you_!" The teen was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes going even wider if such a thing was even possible. "Oh gosh! Just wait till the people at school hear about this! We are going _straight_ up the social ladder, dude, and-"

"NO!" Peter screeched, heart exploding at the prospect of what Ned was implying. "You can't...I don't...know, I...can't tell..." Peter couldn't believe it. Everything was ruined. His secret was out. They would find out. Everyone would find out. His father would find out. It was all over for him. Maybe _that's_ why he couldn't breathe anymore.

Ned finally seemed to notice his friend's distress as Peter stumbled back against his desk, wheezing harshly as he shook. Quickly rushing over, the teen placed an arm around his best friend. "Whoa, whoa...easy now." He murmured as he led his friend over to the couch.

Peter collapsed against the cushions as he grasped his head in his hands, struggling to draw in some air as Ned rubbed comforting circles along his back. "Geez...calm down, Peter. It's okay. Everything's gonna be fine." He said softly, continuing the comforting motions as Peter's breathing slowly but surely began to return to normal.

Finding enough of his voice to speak once again, Peter latched his hand around Ned's arm, the teen's eyes widening at his friend's strong grip. "Ned, l-listen to m-m-me...you...you cannot t-tell _anyone_ about this...alright?" he asked, his eyes practically dripping desperation. "If...if my father finds out about this...I...I-I..."

"Dude, slow up for a second! Who do you think I am?" Ned asked, a small hint of hurt showing through in his voice as he stared back at his friend. "I would never rat you out to your father." He murmured, eyes narrowing slightly as he thought back to the man. "And...and I...I _won't_ tell anyone at school either. Not...not if you don't want me to."

Peter stared back at the teen's face, drinking in every inch, every detail before he deemed him to be telling the truth, letting out a loud groan as he pressed his palms into his face and rested his head against the lip of the couch.

Ned stared at him for a moment, unsure as to how to proceed. For a while, the pair simply sat in silence, the distant sound of cars and sirens drifting in from outside. Finally, Ned decided to speak. "When did this happen? When did you get these powers?"

Peter didn't look over at him as he stared down at his hands. "I was eight. Got bitten by a radioactive spider down in my dad's lab." He murmured, practically feeling the couch shaking as Ned turned to look at him. "Seriously? Dude! that's like... _comic-book_ levels of awesome!" He beamed, Peter finally letting a small smile grace his lips.

"So, is this why Tony Stark gave you that internship? Cause he knows about you being Spider-Man?" The teen asked, Peter giving another nod, which had Ned nearly toppling from the couch. "I can't frikkin believe this. You have the _coolest_ life in the entire world!" He shouted, pausing as Peter gave him a deadpan look. "Uhh, well sorta..." The teen added on.

Ned let out a small laugh as he stood up, the excitement becoming too much for him to sit still any longer. "This is the most amazing thing ever, man..." He muttered. "I mean...you're a superhero! A real-life superhero! And-" HE paused, eyes going wide. "Are you an Avenger now?"

Peter let out a small scoff. "I don't think I'm quite there yet, Ned." His face grew thoughtful as he glanced towards the ceiling. "But I _did_ happen to run into one of the Rogue Avengers tonight so.." He murmured, smirking slightly as he tossed the bait out.

Predictably, Ned practically fell into his lap as he leaned closer. "You...I'm sorry, you did _WHAT NOW?!"_

Peter let out a small laugh and pushed his friend away, the teen going back to sit next to him. "I'll explain it all later. It's...it's kind of a long story." He murmured. Ned opened his mouth to keep talking but paused when his eyes landed on the ash dusting Peter's face, a visible cut slashed across the teen's forehead that was already beginning to fade.

Instantly, the joyous fire that had been burning inside the boy diminished as he glanced back down at the floor, his brows furrowing slightly. "And you do this every night? You...you go out and...and fight crime?"

Peter glanced over at him, confused as to the new unsure tone in his friend's voice. He gave a small nod. "Yeah, why?"

The other boy stared back at him, face twisted in concern." Is - isn't that...dangerous?" He murmured, wringing his hands slightly as he stared back at Peter. The teen let out a small breath and shrugged. "In case you haven't noticed, I was kinda already used to that before I even _started_ doing this." He murmured with a small smirk.

Ned didn't seem to share his amusement. "I'm being serious, Peter! This, I mean...I always hear on the news how Spider-Man is saving people from fires and stopping bank robberies and catching muggers and...and all that crap sounds _super_ dangerous and I mean..." He trailed off, glancing back down at the floor. "I just, I'd hate to see you get hurt."

Peter stared back at the teen, that same strange feeling he'd been thinking about before returning in his chest. That same feeling he'd gotten with Mr. Stark, with Pepper and Rhodey and Happy. After a moment, he let a small smile fall onto his face. Maybe he couldn't be certain of what the others thought of him, but he knew for a fact what Ned thought, the teen's words only solidifying his resolve. There was a reason he was his best friend.

Lifting his arm, the teen placed his hand against Ned's shoulder, the teen glancing back up at him. "Look...I know this is all super weird and totally unbelievable.." He gestured wildly while speaking. "But I _do_ happen to know what I'm doing. I've got _crazy_ powers, man! I can catch a bus with my bare hands, I can crawl along the walls and the ceiling, I can take out five armed guys with practically nothing but a can of high-tech silly string attached to my wrist without even breaking a sweat!" He scoffed. "Plus, I have Mr. Stark watching my back now, too." He explained, Ned's face slowly relaxing as he continued. "It's not like I'm alone in this. For the most part, I have him for help."

Ned grew silent for a moment and Peter leaned closer, hoping his words had done something to soothe the teen's worries. the last thing he needed was Ned going off and telling someone about his secret simply because he believed he had to do it to keep his friend safe. However, he blinked in shock as Ned stared back up at him, smirking widely. "Well, now you have me, too."

Peter stared back at him for a moment, mouth going dry as he swallowed. For a moment, all he could do was blink back at his friend. Finally, after a second, the teen felt a smile form on his face as he chuckled. "Yeah...guess I do."

Both boys glanced down as Ned's watch beeped. "Crap..." The kid muttered as he rose up to his feet, Peter doing the same. "I have to get going or I'm not gonna make it back home before curfew." He sighed.

QUickly lifting his arm, the teen pointed a stern finger Peter's direction, said boy raising up his hands in surrender. "And don't think we're done with this. I'm texting you with any and all questions I have on this and trust me, there are a _lot."_ He exclaimed.

Peter laughed. "Okay, okay. Just make sure to text it on the E.X. Chat, m'kay?" He said. With how nosy the Cons could sometimes be, it had become sort of like a mandatory thing for him to create a secret text group on his phone that only he could access. Considering the topic up for discussion, it went without saying that they would have to use the private chat.

"Pshh...of course. What do you take me for?" Ned responded, though he could tell from the look Peter gave him that it was not something to take lightly. "Plus, don't expect me to hold back when I see you at school, either."

"Seriously, dude? School? Isn't that a little risky?"

"Hey! I reserve the right to be curious about this! My friend is literally an example of a Ripley's Believe It or Not exhibit."

Peter rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless as the two boys made their way over towards the door. Ned turned the handle and stepped out into the hallway, turning back as he held out his hand for their signature handshake.

Peter stared down at the outstretched hand, but decided against it. In a display of relief that he didn't realize he'd been holding in - something the teen would come to question later on that night - he leaned forward, wrapping his friend in a hug. Ned was obviously taken aback my it but was quick to return it in a display of strength that perhaps might have even rivaled Spider-Man. Damn, did that kid have a grip!

Though, he supposed he had good reason. After all, Peter was _never_ one to divulge in personal contact like this. At most, Ned could get a high-five out of him, perhaps a comforting shoulder pat. It was rare that the large boy could ever actually hug him. But now it was _Peter_ hugging _him,_ and not the other way around!

Safe to say, both boys realized just how momentous the seemingly small gesture was, so much.

Neither boy wanted to be the first to pull away.

* * *

 **Friday - March 25, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Private Labs 01**

 **09:45 p.m.**

 _"Eyewitness accounts place the time of the explosion at approximately 8:15 tonight. The Fire supposedly erupted from one of the main lower labs, quickly spreading to the rest of the building."_

 _"Nearly two dozen employees were still inside the building when the fire began, but miraculously, they all emerged with minor injuries and slight burns. Who they have to thank for these harrowing saves is none other than local neighborhood hero, SPider-Man, which we have numerous statements placing him at the scene, where he went on to pull out nearly fifteen employees to safety."_

 _"While it is unclear as to the full damage done to the East Town Engineering/Chemical Manufacturing Building or the ETECM for short, it's safe to say that these employees won't be forgetting about the fact that there is always someone watching out for them, for all of us. This is Jamie Holmes bringing you live feed. Back to you Todd."_

"Mute."

Instantly, the voices filtering in through the screen were silenced as Tony glanced back down at the work desk he currently sat in front of. He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek before tapping the handle of the screwdriver in his hand against the metal table. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all." He murmured with a small sigh. He glanced up at the bottle of half-empty scotch on the table. Reaching over once again, the man poured the amber-colored liquid into the small glass beside it and took a quick swig before setting the glass down once again.

Twisting the tool back around, he once again began to fiddle with the metal paneling on one of his suit plates. He'd have to remember to ask Peter about this little event the next time he saw him, make sure he came out of it unscathed. He knew he likely had, considering the teen wasn't banging at the tower window asking for assistance, as Tony had instructed him to do.

Of course, the thought didn't escape his mind that the kid had just decided to _ignore_ what Tony had told him, but he decided to try and give the teen the benefit of the doubt for the time being, or at least until he had reason not to.

Tony furrowed his brow and shook his head. It wasn't like he was worried or anything. No, of course not! He...he just remembered that the filtration system on the suit could be a little finicky sometimes. He just wanted to make sure such things were working properly is all.

He was so engrossed in his _not_ caring that he didn't even notice the sound of approaching footsteps, of course, it didn't help when the stranger was trying to _mask_ said footsteps. Nonetheless, Tony jumped slightly as a new voice entered the room.

"Keeping tabs on your latest invention, huh Stark?"

He knew who it was before he even spun around.

His grip on the screwdriver tightened as he lowered his head, his shoulders tensing as he shut his eyes tightly, teeth grinding as he fought to keep his breathing under control. "FRIDAY?" He murmured softly, not even bothering to turn around, to look up.

" _I'm sorry, Boss. She hacked into my system and disabled the alarm protocols."_

He couldn't help the humorless scoff that fell from his lips as he opened his eyes and shook his head. "To be honest, I really shouldn't be surprised." He muttered as he turned around in his chair, coming face to face with Natasha, piercing green eyes staring straight back at him. "You never really have been one for asking permission."

She quirked a brow. "What, and you have?" She snarked back with a signature smirk on her lips.

Tony narrowed his eyes, face twitching as he stared back at the woman. She was wearing a light teal shirt with a short black jacket overtop, matching the dark grey jeans and black combat boots below. The light blue of the shirt made her bright red hair stand out even more, which was most likely what the hood was for. She reached up and pulled it off, the material falling limp behind her head.

He gave a small sneer. "I'm surprised I could even tell it was you. Knowing all your tendencies I was expecting a blonde."

Natasha gave a small shrug. "Can't really pull it off." She murmured before her eyes glanced back over towards the muted TV playing above their heads. Tony followed her gaze and narrowed his eyes at the continuous news report of Spider-man playing on the screen, his stomach churning angrily as he watched the woman stare at the screen like a lioness stalking her prey. He clenched his fists.

"You know, I only got a few glimpses of him in Berlin, but I've seen plenty of news footage of him." She explained as she walked further into the lab, Tony never taking his eyes off of her as he gripped the screwdriver tighter, heart thumping loudly against his chest. "He's not bad." She murmured, smirk widening.

Tony felt his muscles tighten and his stomach recoil at such words. From anyone else, they would not invoke such a startling reaction, but Tony knew Natasha. He knew what she meant by those words. And he was _not_ having it.

"Yeah, well...he's good alright. He's good enough to not deserve getting involved with the likes of you, so you stay the hell away from him alright?" He growled up from his chair as he began to stalk over to the woman, Natasha keeping her face neutral and her breathing level.

"I don't want you dragging him into all your bullshit." He spat, eyes narrowing as they filled with something Natasha had never seen in them before, and whether she would ever admit it or not, the man's next words succeeded in sending a chill down her spine. "And if you even _think_ of hurting him or of sending one of your other goons after him..."

He leaned closer, his voice low and dangerous. "I swear I'll kill you."

The woman took a deep breath, never even flinching against the man's piercing glare. "I get the picture." She murmured. "You have my word, Tony."

The billionaire scoffed as he turned back around. "Please. Your word means jack-shit to me." He growled out as he took a seat by the table once again, picking up one of the loose pieces of metal off of the steel surface. He tossed it in the air before catching it once again, turning to glance back at her. "What are you doing here, Romanoff? Got tired of playing Hide and Seek with the national government?" He sneered before chuckling the piece of metal in his hand far across the room, where it landed somewhere out of sight with a loud clatter. He reached over and took another long drink from the glass before pouring himself another.

Natasha's eyes stayed locked on where the loud noise had originated before turning back towards Tony, walking closer as she placed a hand on the table. "I came to check up on you" She explained, eyes catching the bottle on the table.

Tony said nothing for a moment as his fingers twitched. "Check up on, or scope the perimeter? Whatever spy lingo is for...well, _spying._ " He muttered before swiping his hand across the table, knocking her hand off as well as she took a step back. "Cause if you think for one second I'm gonna buy that _bullshuit_ , then you obviously must be losing your edge." He growled.

"Tony-" She tried to murmur, only for the man to cut her off.

"Do the others know you're here?" He uttered, cocking a brow as he glared back at her. She said nothing for a minute, which was all the answer he needed.

"They do."

"Hmm, I'm sure they weren't all that happy with it, were they?" He jeered.

Natasha narrowed her eyes as she blinked back at the man. "They don't want the risk of me blowing cover."

"Geez, and I thought you were good at lying through your teeth."

" _Tony-"_

"And...uh...what does Mr. Upstanding Citizen think of your little charity outreach program?" He asked in a similar mocking tone, though it did little to hide the anger that fell onto his face at just mentioning the man. Natasha seemed quick to pick up on it as well.

"He's the one that suggested it." She finally decided on. Tony sat at the table, one fist resting against his mouth as his elbow lay propped up on the table, his leg bouncing repeatedly up and down. He let out a small scoff as he pulled away, his right hand coming to tightly grip his left wrist as a soft jolt of discomfort traveled through the limb, something that had been happening more and more. "Yeah, right..." He muttered.

Natasha moved closer, eyes seeming to become more earnest as she did so. "I'm telling the truth, Tony. He..." She paused, unsure as to whether or not she should continue. Her eyes caught on to Tony's hands, to his tight grip on his wrist. She remembered when the limb had been wrapped in a cast so lingering pain shouldn't have been uncommon. However, she also knew that such feelings should have left _weeks_ ago.

She watched the man take in a few calming breaths as he continued to rub at the wrist, his hand shaking slightly as he did so. She quickly came to realize that it was not something he did out of pain. And if she were being completely honest, she had hoped it was. For the alternative was so much worse.

She took another deep breath before continuing. "He knows what he did was wrong and he was worried about you. He still is." She murmured.

The words were barely even out of his mouth before Tony was back on his feet, leaping towards her as his eyes filled with fury, the chair toppling over with a horrendously loud _CLANG!_ "Well, you can tell him to blow it out his ass, alright!" He snarled. "Cause how fucking _dare_ he try and play the righteous card here when he doesn't even have the balls to come and say sorry to my _goddamn_ face?!" He practically roared, fists shaking by his side as his chest heaved to take in another breath. "No, **fuck** Rogers! Fuck his bullshit apology! No amount of false faces and fake words of recompense are ever going to fix this!" He snarled as he took another threatening step forward.

As he loomed closer, Natasha couldn't stop herself from reaching towards her hip, exposing the gun hidden beneath her clothes just enough as her fingers hovered over the weapon. Tony's blazing eyes caught this and landed on the gun. Instantly the fire began to dwindle as he stared back between her and the gun. A flicker of hurt crossed over his face, something Natasha caught instantly, for she quickly lowered her hand once gain. But it was too late.

The man sniffed and narrowed his eyes as he turned away. "You can go ahead and tell him that." He muttered as he stooped down to pick up his chair once again, taking a seat in it as his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. Instantly, Natasha could see just how pathetic the man seemed, just how depressed. His hair was a mess, different strands sticking up all over the place. His clothes were wrinkled and stained with oil and his face held one too many wrinkles to count, numerous bags hanging underneath his dead eyes.

They were right to have been worried.

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew it would go down like this. He _fucking_ knew it. This was the whole reason he had avoided talking about stuff like this. This was why he refused to talk to Ross. This was why he dreaded even the very thought of talking to any of his old teammates. Cause as soon as he did, all the hurt, all the anger, all the pain, it would come bubbling back up to the surface and he wouldn't be able to hold it back. It would be Siberia all over again.

His words to Peter began to echo in his ears, making him grip the edges of the table even harder. _"I...this entire mess...in a sense, we all had a hand in it. None of us were innocent. We were all responsible. S-so don't go writing Cap as off as the bad guy, kid. Cause...cause I'm just as bad as him...maybe worse."_

He knew it made sense. He knew they were all to blame. He knew it wasn't just Cap's fault, it was his as well. But it didn't stop him from hating the man with every fiber of his being. Steve might not have been the bad guy, but he definitely wasn't the hero. Certainly not Tony's at least.

He reached over and took another swig from his drink, emptying the glass. He poured himself another.

The man let out a tired sigh as he stared down at the table. "And what about you? I'm sure he had to bribe you with _something_ to get you over here." He muttered as he tossed his hand up, waving it dismissively in the air.

Natasha let a small smile fall onto her face as she dared to move closer once again, preparing herself for another bout of anger. "Actually, I'm the one that offered to go." He explained as she grabbed one of the nearby chairs and pulled it up next to Tony's, sitting down when the man didn't dispute it. "He's not the only one who's worried about you, Tony."

He didn't believe it. He didn't believe it...because he wanted _too much_ for it to be true.

"Bite me." He growled, throwing her a glare.

"I didn't come here to fight." The woman responded, refusing to get riled up like the man wanted her to. She wouldn't play his game. Not when there was so much on the line here. Not when she knew what he was feeling underneath all that anger.

"No, of course not." The billionaire sneered. "You're just the delivery girl for late, soggy, flavorless apologies." He glanced down at his watch. "Well, you weren't here in 45 days or less so does that mean it's free?"

Natasha said nothing. For once, she didn't know what she _could_ say. To say they'd screwed this up would be the understatement of the year. If she thought they played things wrong before, then they were basically disqualified from _this_ game, considering how bad things had gotten.

She stared back at the man, jaw tensing as she thought. From the first day they'd met, Natasha knew that things would not be easy. After all _Tony_ wasn't what one would call " _easy"._ For a time, she'd been right on the money, and for a little while after that, she feared things would always stay that way.

Well, she'd never been happier to be proven wrong. Oh, sure, she and Tony weren't weaving each other friendship bracelets or junk like that, but they'd become close, just as any of the other Avengers had. She could honestly say she had cared for the man. She still did. And whether this little war meant anything, whether they were on opposing sides for the rest of their lives, nothing would stop her from considering the man one of her closest friends.

And if there was one thing you had to know about Natasha Romanoff, it was that she valued her friends more than anything in life. More than the mission. More than the kill. More than _anything._

"LIsten, Tony." She murmured softly, the man refusing to look her way. "I'm sorry things turned out this way. I never wanted it like this. None of us did." She sighed. "I-I was only doing what I thought was right. That's all any of us _could_ do." She uttered as she pressed one fist against her cheek. "And as it turns out, this went to shit pretty quickly."

Tony scoffed at that. The woman paused before lowering her gaze, sitting up straight once again. "But it happened. It's here, and we can't change that now." She uttered softly. "All we can do now is decide how to move on."

She hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. The man's fists clenched, but he didn't pull away as Natasha had been expecting. "I didn't want to hurt you, Tony. And neither did Steve. But I'm sorry that we did." She said in a tone of voice that was more sincere than Tony had ever heard it be before. He still didn't look at her. "I know it will take a while. I know it'll be hard. But..." She paused. "But I hope with time...you'll be able to forgive me."

She had never meant anything more in her life.

Tony finally couldn't help but steal a small glance her way, his eyes heavy and unreadable before he turned away once again. He said nothing as he swigged another drink.

Natasha stared at the man for a moment longer before turning away to stare back down at the table. She noticed another empty glass sitting next to the bottle of scotch and reached over, pouring herself a small drink as well. Tony glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but still said nothing.

She poured some of the gold liquid back into her mouth, the familiar burn warming her throat. She set the glass back down onto the table and stared down at the papers laid out before it. Blinking a few times as she reread the prints, she turned back towards Tony with a questioning glance. "Plans for the Arc Reactor?" She murmured. "I didn't think you even thought about that thing anymore? What are you doing with these?"

For a moment, the woman worried the man was shutting her out completely when he opted not to answer once again. But after a few moments, the man took another sip from his glass and set it back down on the table. "It's not for me. It's for my intern." He muttered, voice low and heavy.

"Geez, if you don't wanna answer then don't answer. You don't have to lie to me an-"

"He's real." Tony sighed with a small glare before glancing back over to his glass, swirling the liquid inside around. "Okay, well, I'm like 97% sure he's not a figment of my liquored up brain but whatever." He uttered before falling silent once more, staring hard at the glass in thought for a moment, hesitation clear on his face.

"His name's Peter. Peter Parker."

"Parker?"

"Yes. _That_ Parker. And before that judgmental look deepens, he's not here cause of that." He mumbled, glancing down at his glass once again. "I'd been considering taking in a few interns before this all started and he just happened to be at the top of the list." He breathed, glancing over towards the woman. "So, I'm testing the waters. Seeing how this plays out. If it goes well, I might start opening up Stark Industries to taking in more interns, outreaching more scholarships, all that jazz." He took another drink.

Natasha's eyebrows remained furrowed as she gave a small nod of her head. "Anything in particular that brought this up?" She asked, knowing that Tony had never mentioned something like this before. In fact, anything like this seemed a bit out of left field for him.

The man gave a small smirk. "Well in case you haven't noticed, the prospects of me bringing up an heir to the company are pretty slim to none if you know what I mean." He muttered. "So...I might as well start searching for some worthy candidates." He sighed.

Natasha gave another slow nod. "Alright, _that_ I can understand. But I'm still unclear as to why this particular intern seems to be allowed into your lab - something you're particularly bitchy about - as well as working on secret projects that plenty of people would like to get their hands on, especially said intern's _father."_ She murmured, staring back at Stark expectantly.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah...Originally, I planned on just doing the whole coffee run, doughnuts, filing system shit and shebang with the kid."

"But?" She coaxed, knowing there as more.

"But..." Tony sighed running his fingers along the smooth surface of the glass in his hand. "I don't know...he's _weird."_

 _"Good_ weird or-"

"You know what, let's just leave it at weird, m'kay?" He scoffed. "He's...let's just say he's not like anyone else I've ever met before. H-he's shy, and awkward and... _painfully_ afraid of basically any and all people. But, the kid's a _fucking_ genius, Nat. I mean like Stark levels of genius.

Natasha couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Tony gave a small smirk, the look disappearing as he continued, his eyes staying locked on the glass in his hand. "Anyway, it's kinda obvious the kid has some...issues at home."

"Issues?" The woman echoed.

The man paused for a moment before taking another sip of his drink. "I don't want to talk about it. And Peter _definitely_ won't, so don't you even _think_ about bringing it up with him unless you want a panic attack on your hands." The woman grimaced slightly at that, Tony giving a small nod.

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair as he let another sigh, perhaps the tenth one that night. "I don't know where I'm going with this. He...and I...he's just...weird." He murmured softly, though by the way he said it , it was obvious to Nat that there was more he wanted to say on the subject, but she could tell he just didn't know _how_ to. So he stopped.

The woman twisted the glass in her hands around, taking in the grooves and lines etched into the smooth surface before a small smile fell onto her face. "He sounds like a good match for you."

Tony threw her a questioning look before rolling his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms over his chest. "He's a lot like me in some aspects. Smart, kinda reclusive. But...he's also like my complete opposite in more ways than one." He realized.

"That's the point, genius." Nat scoffed with a smirk. "It sounds like you could learn a thing or two from each other."

Tony stared at her for a minute longer before turning away, staring back down at the table. "I don't know..."

Natasha blinked back at the man before her eyes flickered over towards the still-muted TV. Along the bottom of the screen, the time flashed in the corner, small print that was just big enough for her to make out. She let out a small breath as she placed the glass back down on the table, Tony taking a drink from his own. "I can't stay." She said softly. "I have people waiting for me."

Tony waved his hand dismissively as he rested a cheek on his propped up fist, staring down at the papers before him. "yea, go. Run off. Have fun in your hidey hole. Try not to get shot. Or don't. I don't care either way." He murmured in his usual snarky voice as he blinked down at the plans.

Natasha couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips at that. she knew the man was saying goodbye in his own little way. She also knew that it would be a while before things ever returned to how they were before, but she was willing to bet it was possible, if this _Peter_ kid was any indication.

"Ill be sure to drop by often, though. I gotta see this baby genius for myself." She called as she pulled her hoodie up once more, rising from her seat.

"Feel free not to." Tony called, not even lifting his head.

Natasha stared at him for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll see you, Tony." She glanced warily at the bottle on the table. "Take care of yourself."

The man still didn't look up as the footsteps departed, dwindling before ceasing altogether. He turned away from the papers and lifted his hand to rub at his wrist once again, a tired sigh falling from his lips. He glanced behind him at the doorway before turning back towards the table. He reached over to pour himself another glass, only to find that the bottle of scotch was empty.

He glared at the offending object before dropping it back on the table. Rising up from his seat, he slowly walked over towards the side of the lab, his vision slightly hazy around the corners. Well, not hazy enough.

Reaching the back wall, the man stooped down next to the small cabinet and pulled out another bottle from his secret stash. Moving back over to the table, he plopped back down in his seat with a huff. Popping open the bottle, he poured himself another glass before setting it down once again.

He swirled the liquid around, watching as he splashed against the smooth glass walls.

He took another drink.

 **. . . . .**

Natasha stole one last glance at the building behind her before pulling her hood up tighter, continuing to walk down the narrow sidewalk until she came to the next alleyway.

Turning down the darkened path, she continued to walk along the dirt path, stopping at the end. She leaned her back against the dirty stained brick wall, propping one foot up against the bricks as she folded her arms over her chest.

She let out a small sigh as she began to thrum her fingers against her arm, small strands of red hair falling down into her face as the brisk winds blew past her. After another few minutes of waiting, the soft sound of _whooshing_ met her ears. Lifting her eyes up to the sky, she watched Sam descend down into the alleyway next to her, his wings quickly retracting back into his pack.

She noticed his face was dirty and his arms and uniform seemed to be covered in dirt or ash. She quirked a brow, the man letting out a soft growl as he folded his arms. "Don't ask." He muttered, the woman holding her hands up in surrender.

"I didn't say anything."

The man scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. I just had a little run in with a spider pest." He grumbled.

Instantly, the smirk was washed off of her face as he turned her hard gaze towards him. "Did you hurt him?" She asked, her voice low and intense. Sam cocked a brow, his face twisting into one of confusion as he shook his head. "No, he's fine. A real pain in the ass, I'll say that. But...no. He's...he's alright, I guess." He murmured before turning back towards her. "Why so concerned all of a sudden?"

"I'm not. Stark is."

Sam narrowed his own eyes at that and turned away with a small scoff. "Yeah, sure." He uttered before lifting his head. "How'd that go anyway? You wish you'd listened to me and Clint yet about just staying away and letting that asshole deal with his own shit?" He growled.

Nat let out a small sigh as she watched Sam unstrap the pack, moving over towards the wall she was leaning against as he pulled out a raggedy backpack they'd stashed their earlier.

"No, actually. In fact, I plan on going back."

Sam threw her an incredulous look. "Come on, man. You can't be serious."

One look from her told him she was as serious as can be.

He let out an annoyed groan and shook his head. "We already have enough problems to deal with, Nat. We don't need to be adding _his_ to the pile! Stark's a grown man. He can handle himself." He tried to explain, though he knew it was a fruitless effort.

Unzipping the bag, he pulled out a jacket, a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses before he placed his own wings inside the bag, zipping it closed so that it looked like a regular old backpack. Undoing the jacket, he quickly wrapped it around himself and zipped it up, flipping the hoodie over his head as he placed a baseball cap over it, sliding a pair of sunglasses over his face as well.

Natasha watched silently before turning away. "You can spare me the lecture, alright? I already know I'm gonna have Clint up my ass for this. But you honestly think Steve's just gonna want to drop this?" She asked.

It was obvious what Sam's answer was as he groaned and glared up at the sky.

Before either of them could say any more, the sound of distant sirens had them quickly straightening up. Moving back over towards the end of the alley, Sam walked over to the rotting wooden fence blocking their way and pried one of the panels of wood away from the rest of the structure, revealing a human-sized hole that they could easily slip through.

Quickly and quietly moving past it, the pair began to walk along the darkened, shadowed path back to their safe house once again. they knew it was unlikely anyone would recognize them if they walked along the street, but they weren't one for taking chances.

Nat glanced over towards her partner as they walked. "So...Spider-Man, huh?"

"Yeah, the kid's a little asshole."

The woman smirked. "Yeah? Well, I got a kid of my own I need to scope out." She murmured with a chuckle. "I'm sure I can get a bit of fun out of that."

Sam moaned over dramatically as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Heh...there aren't enough prayers in the world for that poor soul."

Natasha let out a small huff of amusement.

" . . . I know."

* * *

 **Que es esto? Is she actually posting on schedule for once?! I think she is! *glances at clock* two hours to midnight? I think she DID!**

 **You know, funny enough, I didn't think this chapter was gonna get over 10,000 words, and if id did, I'd really have to push it with the details. But would you look at that! This chapter is even longer than the last one! Hehehe...oops.**

 **Oh, well! Happy accidents!**

 **Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed this little intro to the Rogues! I'm super excited to begin adding them to the story. I also have another surprise character joining in on the story a little while later. And don't worry, it's not a stupid OC that doesn't belong and has no right being on** _paper_ **let alone in the actual story (cough, cough, basically all stories in this writing section, cough). PS. it's not one of the rogue avengers or any other HEROES from the MCU, but it IS a character in the MCU universe.. You should be getting this character somewhere in the later chapters.**

 **HEY! Look at you, NED! Look at you go! So yeah, I guess you can tell I wasn't planning on waiting long for Ned to figure out his secret. Peter needs his wingman! His Guy in the Chair!**

 **So, thanks to everyone for favoriting and/or following:** ** _Whirling, cilinha, Agent blue rose, Aiylna, Daemon kral, Informalnonody, Kyndal9soccer, Sunavers, mandi102, maryy1018, tamakaru2, Hannah Bowers, IAMGinny, MagicoftheWorld, Meedwood, SaphiralovesTolkien, TheMidnightwolf15, iKendallfire, the almighty jono, ParadoxicOrder8, TheCrazyTwins, Malanisay, WinterIce3, YuugiYY, LIttleMoonlightLover, SammyKayWalker, monochre, Heather Mini, FanHubClub, FlamingRocker712, ShadowMist62442, JustAFemaleGeek, 4evaDayDreamer, babyLAY, missmentle, Song of Magic, takenbytheflash; HecallsMeBeloved, CupcakiiStar, ParadoxicOrder8, TheCrazyTwins, TheDancingMelon, Malanisay, Roseathorn3, monochre, Ashfirebolt, jawahir, StarCloudDream_**

 **Reviews:**

 **spidermanpls:** **Yeah, I can honestly say that the scene between Rhodey and Peter is becoming one of my favorites. It was oddly difficult to write in the beginning, but I think that's just cause I was trying to get a feel on Rhodey's character. Anywho, you don't need to worry about massive Cap bashing in this fic. I never like those fics that make it seem like one side wasn't at fault at all. The point of the entire movie was that you could side with either Cap or Tony with reasons to choose both sides, so you can be sure I'll be representing both sides equally in this fic. It's just that since this fic focuses more on the relationship between Tony and Peter, you'll be haring a lot more from them, but I'll make sure to keep off of the bashing for Cap so you don't have to fear.**

 **guacamole lover:** **Yeah, isn't it always great when Peter's happy. He should always be happy (she said while planning on ways to consume him in endless torture and angst) Ahem, ANYWAY! Yep, apologies for that cliffhanger, but I hope it was worth the wait. Plus, bonus: you got so see some more of Ned. Double Bonus, you got to see Ned figure out Peter's secret. You'll also be hearing more about his mother in the next chapter so be prepared for some tasty angst. Hmm...the word "tasty" and the word "angst" seem to have some similarities I've never noticed before. Coincidence? I THINK NOT!**

 **AndurilofTolkien:** **Welp safe to say he had a pretty...intense meeting**

 **FanficFan920** **: Oh yeah, man. One of my main goals when writing is to always find a way to top the last chapter I wrote. To be honest, I'm not too happy with this chapter, but it took two weeks to write so whatever. I'm done with this thing! Here! TAKE IT!**

 **RosettaQueen20** **: Deep breaths. In and out. Breathe! Yeah, I'm gonna try and introduce them slowly. You got a taste of Sam and Natasha in this chapter. For the next few upcoming ones, you'll focus more on Natasha and late ron you'll slowly get more and more until we get to the BIG DADDY! You know who I'm talking about. You don't need to worry about a Bashing story. I swear I'll do them both justice. Both sides deserve the love. You'll get to see the stories from both parties so you don't need to worry.**

 **Agent blue rose:** **Ahh, Sam. Always trying to be so toughy-tough. He's adorable. That's certainly an...interesting take on it. I'll see what I can do.**

 **l** **il cometz:** **Catch the hands, Sam. CATCH THEM!**

 **Seawell** **: I know. I feel like Rhodey's one of their more underdeveloped, underrated characters. It's a crime. A CRIME I SAY! Oh, dude. It's like my morning ritual to watch that video every day, swear it!**

 **Luckias** **: Yep, and you're getting 23,000 with this chapter. BOOYAH! I will accept your cookies. Rain them down upon me. Yep, if I can make my readers laugh out loud to the point of getting strange glances from their family members at least** ** _one_** **time in my stories, then my job is complete.**

 **Aiylna** **: Whoa! C'est génial, mec. merci d'avoir pris le temps de lire mon histoire, mec. Et merci de prendre le temps de le traduire pour que vous puissiez lire. Cela fait ma journée! J'espère que vous pouvez lire ceci. Je ne suis pas trop certain que ça va passer. Mais, j'ai essayé! De plus, étant donné que vous devez déjà faire l'effort de traduire toute l'histoire, je ne voulais pas que vous traduisiez le commentaire aussi, alors j'espère que j'ai rendu les choses un peu plus faciles pour vous.**

 **StarStepper** **: Yeah, well when you're being hunted like a dog by your own government, I can understand you being a little on edge. And I mean, he still thinks he's an asshole so there's that. Aw! You too, boo!**

 **Ammy of Asgard** **: Yep, nothing like starting off a chapter with murder and angst. Gotta love it. Yeah, I feel like answering comments this way justt gives me more of a connection to my readers and allows them to hear what I really have to say, you know what I mean?**

Toni42 **: Welp be prepared for this monster baby! 23,000. My best yet! And the funny thing was that when I started this chapter, I was looking at my guidelines and big plot points and I was wondering whether or not this would even top 10,000. Guess I went a little overboard, huh? Oh, yeah. Relationships are like my favorite thing to write. And I don't mean kissy face relationships. Father-son, brother-brother, friendships are the bomb, you know what I'm saying?**

 **CupcakiiiStar** **: Aw! Really? thank you so much!**

 **HeCallsMeBeloved** **: thanks for the reviews so far. Hope you can keep up with these new chapters (she said even though she often had 2 week breaks in between each chapter so...)**

 **totallynotachicken** **: Yep, cliffhangers. Aren't I evil? Yep, this one might take you four days or something, just saying...**

 **ParadoxicOrder8** **: Doesn't everyone want t hug Peter Parker, regardless of the situation, or is that just me. Probably just me...Oh, well. More for me! Anywho, you'll hear more about his mother in the next chapter so just be patient.**

 **monochre** **: Honestly, I think the science parts are some of my favorite. All the details and words flow into each other and add another layer of depth that I can use with the characters and their dialogue, so I enjoy it quite a lot. I;m glad you do as well.**

 **FowlFanKid13:** **Thank you! Honestly, I think that scene is one of my favorites, and I can't say that that little snippet with the vending machine didn't come from...personal experience, cough cough!**


	10. Rule 5 Part l

**Chapter 10: Rule 5 Part l**

* * *

 _5) I Will Never Eat Without Permission_

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 30, 2016**

 **Parker Residence- Second Floor**

 **06:12 a.m.**

Peter could already feel the bruise forming before he'd even hit the floor, a harsh grunt of pain falling from his lips as he hit the wooden panels with a loud _thud._

For a quick millisecond, he just lay there, hands hovering over his throbbing eye as he moaned softly on the ground. But just as quickly as the wave of pain had washed over his face, realization of where he was and _who_ he was with filled his mind, washing out all other concerns.

Quickly he was floundering to gain his bearings once again, scrambling against the floor. He winced as his arm scraped up against the shards of broken glass now littering the floor alongside him, remnants of the orange juice that had once been held inside staining the ground as well. "Serves you right, you little shit!" Flint snarled as he glared down at his now-soaked shirt. "You can't even do this one measly thing right!" He growled, reaching down towards the teen.

Peter couldn't help the small yelp that escaped him as the man hauled him to his feet, gripping the collar of his shirt tightly as he slammed him into the back kitchen wall. Out of the corner of his wide eyes Peter could see Sandra and Curt watching silently, small smirks adorning their faces.

The teen wasn't sure whether they were laughing as his predicament or at the fact that Flint just had a glass of juice spilled all over him. He was willing to bet it was a combination of both.

"You havin' some trouble over there, Flint?" Curt called over, his mouth curling into a sickening grin as his yellowing teeth peeked through his cracked lips.

The big, burly man released one hand to point at the seated figure while his other continued to hold Peter up against the wall. "You shut the _fuck_ up, alright?!" He snapped, eyes blazing as small flecks of sand began to drop from the tip of the man's finger, a sign of how pissed he really was.

Despite the argueably terrifying situation Peter was currently stuck in, the teen couldn't help the small flicker of anger that burned right alongside the usual fear that burned coldly in his heart. He could feel his fists clenching tighter around the man's wrist, willing him to let his go.

They just loved choosing _any_ opportunity to screw with the teen, and if he were being honest with himself, he was really getting fucking _sick_ of it.

"Well maybe next time, you can try getting the orange juice _yourself."_ The words were out before he could remind himself of his place.

Dark eyes swiveled around to stared down at him. Peter blinked in realization and felt his hands clench even tighter around the man's wrist. _God, this just had to happen on a school day._

Before he could make another move, a large hand was flying across his face again, the same side as before. Peter grunted as he felt spittle fly from his mouth, his face burning fiercly as he felt himself get thrown to the ground.

"You feel like mouthing off now, huh? Is that what it is, you little shit?!" Flint roared as he slammed the toe of his boot into Peter's side.

The teen groaned in pain as he flopped back down onto the ground, eyes shut tightly as he wrapped his arms around his midsection, hoping to add just the tiniest layer of protection against the man's wrath. _God, stupid! You stupid, stupid, idiot!_ He screamed at himself. _Mouth shut! Always keep your mouth shut! Why can't you remember that?!_ _You so deserve this!_

The boot came crashing into his side again, his ribs jolting painfully as he gasped.

Now, normally, the teen knew better than to try and escape. Such efforts or any attempt to fight back only made the hits rain down twice as hard. However, the fact that is was 6:15 a.m. on a school day had his eyes flickering over towards his backpack.

Usually, they waited until Friday to wail on him. By the end of the weekend, most of the bruises were already disappearing. But any injuries he'd receive in the mornings were usually still there in the afternoon. Which was why they tried to avoid dealing such blows on weekdays - on schooldays. Usually, they'd at _least_ hit him some place he could cover up.

But seeing how it _was_ Flint, Peter wasn't too surprised that the man seemed to have forgotten such a fact. He'd never really been the brains of the group. Peter was pretty sure his father only kept him around cause he was arguably the strongest out of all the Cons. Plus his stupidity was usually good for a laugh or two. At least to the Cons.

Peter never was one to laugh along with them.

Taking all of this into consideration, Peter was quick to realize that if this continued, there would be too many bruises to explain safely, without suspicion.

The hairs on his neck tingled as he heard Flint rearing back to deliver another swift kick.

Taking only another moment to hesitate, and another to regret his descisions before he'd even _made_ them, Peter rolled out of the way of the kick, his ribs flairing painfully as he quickly skirted by Sandra and Curt and dove for his backpack, which was leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Hey! Where the _fuck_ do you think you're going, you bastard?!" Flint snarled after him as he began to bound down the stairs, taking two at a time as he leapt off the remaining few and landed on the first floor.

"I'm not finished with you, you hear me?! I'm gonna kick your fucking ass when you get back, you sorry son of a bitch! I swear I'll-"

Peter didn't bother to hear the rest as he slammed the front door behind him.

Great. Well, not he had _that_ to look forward to later.

The teen stole a single glance over his shoulder as he jumped off of the front steps to the house and landed on the sidewalk. Wincing slightly as the movement jarred his bruised ribs, the teen gripped his backpack tightly in one hand as he began to race down the sidewalk.

He either ignored the indignant shouts of the people he passed on the street, or threw them hurried apologies over his shoulder as he sprinted down the block.

He didn't stop.

Not as the subway sign appeared in the distance. Not as he was bounding down the steps of the tunnel. Not when small black dots began to blink before his eyes.

Hmm...should he be concerned about that?

No matter, he didn't stop to think about that either.

He didn't stop until he came to his terminal. Thankfully, his train was already there, so he didn't have to wait long. He could hear the shakiness of his breathing more than he could feel it as he slipped through the doorway of the train, slinking to the very back of the car.

A ragged breath tore through his chest as he plopped down in the questionably-stained chair, fingers clenching into the fabric of his jeans as he fought to gain control over the frantic beating of his heart, which threatened to rip right out of his chest.

He shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth as a pounding feeling rocked against his head, the throbbing pain making him want to hurl.

Swallowing down the bile currently rising in his throat, the teen blinked open his eyes and glanced over towards the window by his side. A small involuntary hiss sounded from his teeth as he caught a small glimpse of himself in the mirror.

Glancing back down, the teen reached a shaky hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The cracked screen stared back at him as he tapped the device to life, quickly pulling up the camera as he flipped the lense to capture him.

Peter couldn't help but suck in a strained breath as he caught sight of the damage. His face as already scratched up enough from the previous night's... _activities,_ but at least those had already been fading. At least those had barely been noticeable anymore.

Safe to say that was not the case anymore.

The left side of his face was _already_ beginning to bruise, the tinges of dark purple and blue beginning to seep through the dark red skin, spreading across his cheek and eye like blood soaking through a thin, white towel.

The discoloration stood out like a sore thumb compared to his already pale complexion, though that much he was used to. He was _not_ , however, used to his skin being as pale as it was right then. He tapped the screen of his phone a few times to make sure it wasn't malfunctioning before pulling it closer.

It wasn't a trick of the light. His skin was about two shades paler than usual, taking on a soft sickly color that made the bruises and the dark bags under his eyes stand out even more than usual.

The teen continued to stare down at his reflection before another piercing stab through his head had him sliding his phone back into his pocket with a small groan of pain. He shut his eyes and gently pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window.

He desperately tried to ignore the sharp pangs his stomach continue to ring out, wrapping his arms around his midsection as he focused on breathing. He was starting to lose track of the last time he'd eaten anything.

His father claimed it threw off the testing. Peter knew better.

He knew that having his father say when he could and couldn't eat anything was just another way to control him. If he had to grovel whenever he ever wanted to end the pain in his gut, Richard Parker held so much more power over him.

But he'd known that for years.

Usually, the routine was pretty steady. He'd come home, make dinner and serve his father and the Cons. Most often, his father would tell him to take a plate up to his room while he and the others discussed _"business"_. He didn't complain. He didn't say _anything._

Of course, there were the days when the Cons just liked to mess with him. He was beginning to assume it was like a game to them. Just see how miserable you can make the brat. Then again, there were the times he made his _father_ angry with him.

That usually led to a couple hungry days.

For a normal person, such habits could be considered unhealthy. But for someone with a super-charged metabolism that required three times the consumption rate of normal people, such behavior was downright deadly.

Of course, Peter had learned ways to bypass such a rule. Whether it was Mr. Delmar sneaking him a few extra sandwiches from the bodega, Ned packing some stashaway snacks, MJ throwing the occasional apple at the back of his head or _hell,_ sometimes he'd score something from the dumpsters behind some of the 24-hour buffet restaurants that frequented many of the city streets.

More often than not, his go-to guy for making sure he didn't pass out in Chemistry Class was Ned, who would always forcefully shove a sandwich or two into his hands whenever he looked a little peaked. However, Peter knew such a source wasn't going to be available to him for the next couple days.

Safe to say, Ned had been particularly chatty over the last few days. Peter couldn't really blame him. When you find out your best friend is a part-time vigilante, swinging around the city in red and blue spandex while fighting crime, you're sure to come up with a couple questions.

Over the weekend, Peter estimated the boy had sent him over two hundred texts, not to mention they'd Facetimed on Saturday for about an hour. Even after all of that, Ned had promised on Sunday that he'd arrive at school with a bucket-load of new, probing questions.

However, come Monday morning and Peter's phone had been blown with a whole new assortment of texts, only this time, they weren't about Spider-Man. Instead, it was Ned warning him of his impending absence from school for the week, complaining about the stomach bug he'd caught from his little sister.

So...that was out.

Not only that, but for some reason, MJ had been absent on both Monday _and_ Tuesday. Of course, the girl was much more discrete with her details. When he'd texted her, all she'd replied was something about visiting some family upstate before practically threatening him with murder if he didn't study for their upcoming Decathlon meet, promptly ending the conversation.

Option number two was gone.

Add in the fact that his father's trip to _Who-Knows-Where_ had left him in a particularly sore mood - Peter having to pay for such a fact - and you have the perfect recipe for discrete starvation.

In his mind, Peter knew such things probably should have worried him. After all, the subway was highly air-conditioned and yet, he could still feel beads of sweat rolling down his forehead while goosebumps ran up and down his arms underneath his sweater.

He also should have been worried about the fact that his heart still had not stopped beating furiously, despite the fact that he'd been resting for quite a while now. Usually, it took only a minute or two to calm the frantic beating of his heart, but it still felt like it would pop out of his chest at any minute.

He _should_ have been worried. But he wasn't. After all, he didn't even _want_ to eat anymore. Just the thought of food alone had him wanting to hurl.

That should have worried him too.

If he had the energy, Peter would have popped his earbuds in, but just the thought of moving when he didn't have to had the pain in his head increasing by three. So instead, he was content in just feeling the vibrations of the train as it skidded by on the tracks, eyes shut tightly as he counted the seconds tick by. Thankfully, not too many people had boarded that particular car, so it was mostly silent.

After he'd lost track of his counting for the fifth time, Peter decided to stop. Apparently, the train did as well.

Cracking open his eyes, the teen winced at the brightness of the fluorescent lights over head and glanced out the window, watching as the station came into view.

Taking a second to reign himself back in, the teen reached into his pocket to check his phone, wondering if maybe Ned had flashed him a text. As the screen lit up once again, for a fraction of a second, Peter wondered if he'd see a text from his father or one of the Cons.

Years ago, after a particularly nasty beating that left him with a bruise on his forehead, Peter had been heading to school when he'd gotten a text from his father. He could still remember exactly what it'd said.

 ** _You were messing around and fell down the stairs._**

 ** _Understand?_**

 ** _If I get a message from your school about this, we're gonna spend some time in the Dark Room again._**

They never texted him again. They didn't have to.

With a small groan, the teen pushed himself off the window, biting his lip as a fresh wave of nausea raced through him, his head spiking painfully. Taking a second to make sure he wasn't about to start dry-heaving, the teen wrapped a shaky hand around the straps of his backpack and hoisted it over his shoulder, slowly stumbling off the train.

His legs moved sluggishly as he trudged up the stairs. He had to look back more than once to make sure there weren't any weights tied to his feet as he moved, the sheer exhaustion of the action making him blink in shock.

 _Hmm...maybe sprinting all the way to the station_ wasn't _the best idea_. He murmured to himself as he stepped off the station stairwell. Any energy reserved he'd been saving had been all but used up in his little master escape.

Whatever, he'd worry about that later. Right now, he had another monster to deal with.

Swallowing the last remnants of bile that had caught in his throat, the teen let out a shaky breath and pushed through the doors of the school. He still had about ten minutes before the first bell rang, but the hallways were already pretty crowded.

Instantly, the noise pierced his skull like an icepick being driven through his ear. He couldn't help the wince that passed through his lips as he pressed one ear against his shoulder, eyes squinting in pain. Clenching his fists, he stood off to the side for a moment as he tried to take control over his breathing once again, struggling to focus on taking nice even breaths as he resisted the urge to puke all over the sophomore currently standing at his locker next to him.

As the initial pain of the noise began to subside, Peter wrapped his arms around himself and ducked his head, slowly beginning to move towards his locker. For once, he was glad Ned and MJ weren't hear. He _so_ did not have the energy to pretend for them today. To lie to them today. To smile through his teeth even though there was nothing to smile about today.

For once, he could just focus on making it through the day in once piece without having to put up a facade for anyone. Nope. Instead he could concentrate on not passing out in Math.

"What's up, Loser?"

 _Of fucking course._

Remembering at the very last second about his bruise, Peter resisted the urge to spin around to face her as Michelle walked over. Instead, the teen kept his head facing his open locker as he braced his hands against the sides of it. "You better have studied like I told you to otherwise you're gonna get to know the shovel in my backyard very well." The girl muttered as she folded her arms over her chest and leaned up against the lockers beside him.

He ducked his head away as casually as he could manage. "Of course I studied. I always study." He tried to replicate his usual tone. His mouth tasted like ash.

MJ rolled her eyes as she blew at a stray strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. Glaring at the offending piece of hair, the girl stole a small glance over towards the boy, who continued to look anywhere but at her, his long brown curls falling down in front of his face, concealing it in shadow. "I...I didn't think you'd be back...today." He murmured softly.

The girl scoffed. "Glad to know I was missed."

Peter instantly tensed as his grip on his textbooks tightened. He still didn't turn towards her. "I-I...I didn't mean-"

"Relax, Parker. I'm just messin' with you." She scoffed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she noticed the teen's demeanor. Slowly, she uncrossed her arms and dropped them down at her sides, resting on on her hip as she stared at him. "You're being weird. Explain."

His grip tightened as he closed his locker. "Weird? Me...I-I'm not...I don't think..." He was tripping over his words again. That wasn't a good sign. "I'm not being weird."

"Yeah, alright. You're lying isn't getting any better. Maybe you should be studying _that._ " She scoffed, the harsh tone doing well to mask the growing discomfort that was starting to gnaw at her stomach.

"I...I'm not l-lying."

"Mm-hmm...then why won't you look at me?"

Her eyes stayed trailed on the boy as she studied his movements, waiting to see how he'd react. Peter's eyes clenched shut, the steady pounding only growing with each passing second. He really couldn't deal with this right now. He knew MJ was his friend and was most likely just concerned (he thought so at least, it was hard to get a read on her), more than anything, he just wanted her to go away. He wanted everyone to go away.

"Hello? Earth to Peter? You tuning me out?"

Realizing ignoring it would most likely just make it worse, Peter cracked his eyes back open, taking a small steadying breath as he stared down at the cover of his textbook. He barely registered the fact that his heart was still frantically thrumming against his chest. Taking one last minute to prepare himself for the inevitable reaction, the teen steeled himself and looked up.

Michelle froze as her eyes widened slightly. He watched as her eyes quickly scanned every inch of him, taking in whatever they could before finally landing back on his face. Well...more like the left side of his face.

"I just had a rough weekend."

He took a small step forward, only to press his back up against the lockers behind him as Michelle stepped in front of him, eyes dark and cold. "What the hell happened to you?" She asked, her voice tight and controlled. If it weren't for the fact that her fists were clenched at her sides, Peter would have assumed she was simply asking about the weather.

The teen shrugged. "I had a little accident in the kitchen yesterday." He murmured.

Michelle cocked a brow. "What kind of accident?"

Peter resisted the urge to reach for his collarbone. He knew it would be a dead giveaway to the observant girl. She knew he only rubbed at the spot whenever he was nervous or uncomfortable. "I was making dinner when I slipped on some of the water I spilled on the floor. Hit my head on the counter." He explained.

Lying had become like second nature to him. Excuses. Quick responses. It all made to be a pretty useful skill when he needed it to be. Of course, it helped that most people assumed he couldn't lie for shit. It helped make moments like this all the more believable.

"It looks worse than it is." He tried to reassure her. "Really all it did was set me back ten minutes for dinner, so _that_ was kinda annoying."

God, he was getting too good at this.

Michelle continued to stare at him, eyes seeming to bore into him. For a moment, Peter had to wonder whether or not Michelle had super hearing as well, for if not, there was no way she could hear the frantic beating of his heart. But the look she was currently giving him said otherwise.

However, after a moment, the girl let out a small scoff. "God, you are such a loser." She muttered, Peter hiding the small sigh of relief that flew from his lips at that. The feeling was short-lived, however, as Michelle rounded on him again. "Alright, so I get that. But it doesn't explain why you look like you just exsanguinated yourself." She uttered. "Or why you look like you're gonna pass out any second."

Peter felt a grimace form on his face as he glanced away. "I just...don't feel...all that good today." He finally said softly, pressing his back harder against the lockers as a small wave of dizziness washed over him. It was gone a second later, but by the look MJ was currently giving him, she'd seen the way he'd swayed.

He threw her a small, nervous smile to which the girl responded with a scowl.

This was not going good.

"Yo! Penis Parker!

And... _that_ was worse.

Peter couldn't suppress the small groan that escaped him as Flash came into view. As the boy approached, Peter slowly pushed himself away from the lockers, keeping one hand pressed up against the cool metal, if only as a support. Michelle's eyes narrowed in annoyance as the boy rounded the corner, folding his arms as he threw a smirk at the pair.

"Where's your boyfriend?" He called as he glanced at Peter. "You two go at it too hard last night?" He sneered.

The usual uncomfortable feeling that arose whenever Flash was nearby began to crawl up his spine, but he resisted the urge to rub at his collarbone as MJ let out a scoff of her own. "Please. Even if they did, at least he actually got some action." She muttered before casting Flash a small look with a quirked brow. "Maybe next time they'll invite you if you ask nicely."

Flash curled his lip as he glared at the girl, who was quick to copy the boy's look as the two stared off. Peter glanced between the pair before awkwardly clearing his throat. "Ahem...not that this conversation _isn't_ the greatest, but for your information, Ned's at home." He murmured, turning towards Flash. "He caught that bug that's been going around for the last couple weeks."

The boy continued to glare at Michelle for a moment longer before relenting, letting out a snort. "Uh-huh...sure." He mocked, malicious eyes boring into Peter. The teen looked away and turned towards the floor, pressing his hand harder into the metal of the lockers. He could practically feel the vibrations racking his skull so much so that he had to harness his willpower to not smash his head against the lockers just to get a little bit of relief.

"What do you want anyways, Thompson?" MJ muttered, a new look of indifference masking her features, the previous anger now gone.

Flash shook off whatever annoyance he'd been feeling as he stepped closer to Peter, wrapping an arm around the teen's shoulders. Peter winced at the harsh movements as he squinted his eyes in pain. Either flash didn't notice, or he just didn't care. Peter was willing to bet on the latter.

"Just thought you should know that Penis here _really_ dropped the ball at decathlon practice yesterday." He smirked. "You should have seen him floundering around, guessing all the wrong answers. It was hilarious and actually...kinda sad." He patted the teen's shoulder.

Both Peter and Michelle shared annoyed looks at the teen's words.

Ever since Peter had joined the team, Flash had been looking to kick him off. Peter assumed it could have been because of many reasons. Maybe it was cause as long as he was on the team, Flash would remain as First Alternate. Maybe it was because the other members enjoyed having Peter around more than Flash. Or maybe it was just cause Flash didn't like him.

Yeah...that one sounded about right.

Peter had gotten used to the boy trying his best to crawl underneath his skin, belittling him to the other members of the team as he tried to convince them that it would be best just to kick the teen off the team. No matter how many times the team made it clear that they weren't getting rid of Peter anytime soon, Flash never wasted an opportunity to try and convince them. And considering the fact that their Team Captain had been absent from their last practice - which rarely happened - the rich boy obviously saw it as a perfect opportunity to stir up some trouble.

"Anyway, just here to remind you that the team's been wondering when you're gonna do what's best and kick him off." The teen concluded with a pearly smile.

Michelle's eyes seemed to get colder, if such a feat were possible. She folded her arms across her chest as she cocked her hip. "Really? The ' _team'_?" She quoted with a raised brow. "You mean the same team I talked to half an hour ago? The same team that gave me a debriefing on the practice yesterday?"

Flash's smile faltered.

"The same team that said Peter - as usual - got every question right while you were spending your time snapchatting in the corner?" Her eyes narrowed as a small smile formed on her lips. "Yeah, I heard. Thanks for the heads up, though. It's nice to be reminded that we made the right choice in keeping you as an alternate." She sighed before turning away.

Flash instantly stepped away from Peter as he stepped closer towards the girl, his anger finally seeping through in his voice. Peter couldn't help the small sigh of relief as Flash removed his arm from his shoulder. He shut his eyes and lowered his head, concentrating in keeping himself from swaying as his head gave another fierce throb.

"Oh, come on!" Flash slapped his hands down against the sides of his designer jeans. "the only reason I didn't answer any questions is because I already knew the answers! Everybody knows that." He scoffed before glaring back at the girl. "Don't tell me you actually think this loser is smarter than me."

MJ slowly turned back around as she held one of the straps of her backpack, her other hand hanging limply by her side. "I don't think he's smarter than you."

Peter glanced up.

"There! You se-"

The girl leaned closer, eyes narrowed. "I _know_ he is. And the rest of the team does, too." She growled. "Face it, Flash. The only way you're moving up from Alternate is if you prove you deserve it. But I don't see that happening anytime soon. So I suggest you stop wasting my time and give the whole _'mocking Peter'_ thing a break, cause it just proves you aren't heading up anytime soon." She muttered before spinning on her heel and walking away, her curly hair swishing around her shoulders as she moved.

Peter and Flash both watched her walk away just as the bell rang above their heads. Peter swallowed as he grimaced slightly. Pushing himself off the lockers as he hunched his shoulders. "Nice talking to you, as always, Flash." He murmured softly as he began to walk away.

He didn't expect for his backpack to be grabbed and forecfully pulled back, a startled yelp falling from his mouth. Wide eyes stared back at Flash in shock as the teen inched closer, eyes seething. "Don't think this is over, freak. I deserve that spot way more than you do." He pointed a sharp finger in Peter's chest. He curled his fingers as his head pounded. He couldn't take this right now.

"The only reason they give it to you is cause they pity you, Penis." Flash snarled. "Why wouldn't they? Everyone in this school knows you're nothing but a loser." He growled out, teeth grinding as he stepped closer to the teen. Peter backed up another step, a fresh wave of dizziness engulfing him at the increased noise of the people moving around him in the halls as well as the boy that was practically screaming in his face.

This really _wasn't_ going all that well, huh?

Flash obviously didn't notice the teen's distress, for he simply took another step closer. "Well, once they get tired of you, you're out of there! It's only a matter of time." He growled, shoving the teen hard against the lockers.

Usually, such a move would force Peter to willingly allow his body to slam against the cool metal, if only to avoid suspicion. However, it was obvious neither boys were expecting Peter to crash to the floor following the shove. But the teen couldn't stop his descent. A grunt of pain fell from his lips as he hit the cold tile, his shoulder jarring painfully as his head threatened to explode, his stomach churning like a frothing pot.

A loud whining filled his ears, the previous loud noises sounding soft and far off, almost as if he was underwater. Cracking his eyes open once more, he instantly shut them again with a wince, the lights blurry as they bled into each other. He shakily pushed himself up, pressing one hand against his forehead as his legs remained sprawled out next to him.

Gritting his teeth, the whining refused to leave his ears as he dared to crack his eyes open once again. Somewhere nearby, he could hear the sound of people shouting, though the words were garbled and warped, though the high-pitch nature of the sound made Peter assume it was a girl.

Lifting his head, the teen lifted his gaze painfully. He noticed that the people in the hallway were now staring at the scene before them. Michelle was there again. When had she gotten back? Peter couldn't remember. She was yelling at Flash, whose hands were held up as an annoyed look marred his features.

Suddenly, Peter noticed a new figure push through the crowd. It took him a moment to recognize the man through the painful whining in his skull as Mr. Harrington approached the two bickering teens. Once again, the words were foggy and muffled, but whatever they said had Flash walking away in a huff, melting away into the crowd, which Mr. Harrington was quick to disperse.

Peter blinked groggily as a hand was being placed on his shoulder and fingers were holding his chin, forcefully lifting his face. Wincing slightly as the whining spiked before dying down, Peter noticed that Michelle was now kneeling in front of him, holding his face in her hands as her lips moved. Peter assumed she was speaking, but he couldn't really drag in the energy to care about what she was saying. At least the whining was quieting.

"-er? -eter! C..n ear...me?"

He blinked at her again. There was something in her face. Her features weren't as hard as usual and her eyes held none of their usual cold indifference. No, for some reason, they looked...softer. Concerned.

Hmm...weird.

"M-MJ?" He murmured. Was that him speaking though? It didn't sound like him. It sounded...weird. Weaker.

The whining slowly began to taper off until all he could hear was the soft clacking of people's feet as they scurried off to their classes, the three quickly becoming the only people in the hallway. Mr. Harrington knelt down beside MJ, who was now helping Peter sit up against the lockers. "Peter? Can you hear me?" He asked softly.

The teen winced as he pressed his head back against the cold of the lockers, giving a small nod. "Y-yeah...yeah, I can hear you." He said softly. "I...I'm okay." HE murmured, though even _he_ didn't believe it. "I...I didn't mean to freak everyone out. I'm...I'm fine."

Michelle and Mr. Harrington shared a look before turning back to Peter. "You're fine?" The girl echoed, crossing her arms. "You literally just took a nosedive in the middle of the hallway." She muttered, though her fingers tapped nervously against her arms.

Peter gave a small smile as he blew a small breath from his mouth. "I'm good. R-really. I...I just got a little dizzy. Plus Flash is a jerk so that didn't help." He explained, hoping they'd buy it enough to leave him alone.

Mr. Harrington's face darkened as he let out a sigh. "I'll have to have a word with him about this." He uttered, only for Peter to lean closer. "No!" He jerked in, the other two turning towards him in shock.

Peter quickly retracted and bit his lip as he glanced down at the floor. "It's...it's not a big deal." He muttered, his fingers curling into his jeans once again. "Can't...can't we just...forget about this?" He murmured. "I...it's not worth it. Please."

From the look on Mr. Harrington's face, it was obvious he wanted to do no such thing. Judging by the look on MJ's face, it looked like _she_ wasn't planning on forgetting _anytime_ soon. However, the desperation in the teen's voice had the teacher hesitating. He continued to stare at Peter, fingers twitching in thought as he took in the sight before him.

"Do you want to go the nurse?" He asked, his eyes lingering on the teen's bruised face for a moment longer.

Peter shook his head, his gaze staying locked onto the tiled floor beneath him.

The older man knelt there for another minute before he let out a small tired sigh. "Alright. If you're sure you're alright." He murmured softly as he and Michelle helped the boy to his feet, his movements tense and uncomfortable...as usual.

Peter gripped one of the straps of his backpack tightly with both hands, curls falling into his face. "You two should probably get to class." He said with a soft smile. "Peter, if you start to feel bad, don't hesitate to head on down to the nurse, alright?" He called, the teen giving a small, controlled nod. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, Peter quickly tensing under his touch. "I'll check up on you later. You have my class later today so I'll keep an eye out."

Michelle nodded for the boy, grabbing roughly onto his sleeve. "Yeah, thanks Mr. Harrington. We'll see you later." She murmured, flashing the teacher a grateful nod before practically dragging the boy in her grasp down the hall. Once they rounded the corner, she all boy jumped in front of him, eyes seething.

"Alright, Parker. Slip. What the hell was that all about?" She growled out.

Peter stared down at her, long brown curls concealing some of her face from his view. Usually, such an intense look from the girl was enough to have him a stuttering mess, but for some reason, the ten couldn't muster up the energy to really care. He shut his eyes and turned away, wincing slightly as his head screeched. God, that was getting annoying.

"Pet-"

"Look, I _really_ don't want to talk about this right now, alright?!" He growled out, his voice much harsher than he'd been expecting. But to be honest, he didn't really care about that either. He couldn't bring himself to say sorry again. Not when the lights above him seemed to be dialed up to eleven. Not when they threatened to make him tear his own eyes out. Why was it so _fucking_ bright?!

MJ blinked in mild surprise at the boy's shift in demeanor. She curled her fists and was about to retort something back, only to pause as she caught sight of the small tears blinking at the corners of the boy's eyes. Rearing back slightly, the girl washed her eyes over the rest of the boy in front of her.

His shaking hands were curled tightly into the bottom of his jacket as his chest moved in erratic, frantic patterns. His jaw was tense and his eyes were scrunched tightly. The bruise on his face seemed to be darkening, or perhaps it was just his skin turning paler. Either way, the teen seemed sick.

The girl stared for a moment longer before taking a step back, a small sigh falling past her lips. She didn't need to be a genius to tell when someone was in pain.

Peter waited for the girl to begin yelling at him, or at least Michelle's version of yelling, which he was willing to bet was worse than the average person's version. However, he quickly jumped in surprise as he felt something being slid over his face. Cracking his eyes open as he fully expected the harsh lights to pierce through him again, he was even _more_ shocked to find that everything had been tinted a darker shade of blue, the filter acting as a calming wave of relief for his splintering brain.

Before he could react, he felt something being pushed into his hands. Glancing down, the teen saw he was now holding three small orange pills. Blinking in mild surprise, he turned back up to face the girl in front of him. Michelle's arms were folded over her chest once more as she stared at him with her usual intense look. "You're lucky I carry around my migraine medication, Loser." She muttered. "Take these with some water. They should kick in in around half an hour. Think you can keep from passing out till then?" She uttered with a roll of her eyes as she turned and began to walk towards her class.

Peter stared down at the pills for a moment longer before his brain finally caught up with him. He lifted his head once again. "MJ?" He called after the girl, the teen turning at the end of the hallway to glance back at him.

He gave a soft smile, feeling just a shade lighter for the first time that day. "Thank you."

The girl stared at him for a moment longer before hoisting her backpack farther over her shoulder. "I'll see you at lunch. Try not to die before then or I'll kill you." She muttered before rounding the corner.

Peter stared after her before turning to look at the pills, the same strange familiar feeling he'd been noticing often twinging in his chest once again. Only this time, there was something different. There was something off about it. It felt...stranger. He'd felt it as Michelle's dark brown eyes had been staring into him. He'd felt it as her fingers brushed up against his cheeks.

. . . .

That should have worried him, too.

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 30, 2016**

 **Location Unknown**

 **03:52 p.m.**

"You can't be serious. You can't be _fucking_ serious!"

"Funny. And here I thought you could _always_ tell when I was and wasn't joking around, Barton. Guess I overestimated you."

Clint threw her a glare as Natasha stripped off the worn, dirty shirt she'd previously been wearing. Tossing it onto one of the racks nailed into the cement wall, the woman picked another clean shirt from the pile they'd collected in the corner.

"Natasha, you can't actually be considering this. I mean, it's insane. You just...you can't-" The spy started, only for the woman to cut him off as she began to roll up the edges of the new blouse.

"Oh, please. Go ahead. Tell me what I can and cannot do, Clint. Cause right now, you sound a lot like those assholes up on Capital Hill who put us all here in the first place." She muttered, eyes leveling the man a cool stare as she pulled the shirt over her head, straightening it out around her stomach as she pulled her hair out of the collar.

Sam, Wanda and Scott all watched from around the archer as he clenched his fists. Sam and Scott currently sat on some of the many wooden boxes that had been strewn about their chosen warehouse while Wanda leaned up against the back wall, arms crossed over her chest.

They'd been going at it for at least a half an hour now, and it didn't seem to be dying down anytime soon. But it wasn't like there was much else to do. They'd been camping out in the large, dirty warehouse for nearly two months now. Compared to the pristine walls and high tech glamour of the Wakandan kingdom they'd come from, it was a definite step down.

But they couldn't stay. Not when they knew what they knew. So if they had to trade comfort and protection for a damp, smelly warehouse, then so be it. They'd do it if it meant continuing their jobs. The jobs they'd been prosecuted for doing. The jobs they refused to give up.

So, while they spent the nights planning, scanning and patrolling the underground networks as they tried to dig up some information on the weapon deals, the days themselves weren't all that eventful. More often than not, they'd either sleep in, swap stories or tidy up their "living quarters", which were just different corners of the warehouse.

The structure was big, they'd give it that. Considering it was next to the bay, it was most likely used for shipping containers and storage. But now it was empty and abandoned, perfect for them. The thick cememnt walls divided the large space into two different rooms, sharply cut incisions in the stone the closest thing they had to doorways. Along the walls sat large metal racks, which held clothes, water bottles, food. Basically a necessities wall for going on the run.

Or course, they kept their personal weapons on their person most of the time so there was no need to store those away. Especially now, when Natasha seemed only a few moments away from pulling her pistol out on Clint.

The archer narrowed his eyes as Natasha continued to change her clothes. "Yeah, well I'm not the one who wants to go and visit one of those assholes, jeopardizing our entire cover while she's at it." He growled. "No, you go right ahead. What right do we, your actual _trusted teammates,_ have to put our say into this matter?"

The woman opened her mouth to say something, only for Sam to pick his head up. "He's right, Natasha." He murmured. "This mission would be a dangerous one all on its own. We all know going out in broad daylight is dangerous enough for us right now. But you'd actually be willing to compromise our position just...just to see Stark? Just to visit one of the people who dumped this mess on us?" He asked, voice hiding none of his anger at the topic.

"What makes you so certain he will not turn you in the second you show up?" Wanda voiced from her spot against the wall.

Natasha didn't lift her head as she pulled a jacket from the pile of clothes. "He didn't the last time."

"Yeah, and he's been known to be such a valuable and trustworthy person in the past." Clint muttered. "He's probably just waiting for you to make the same mistake again, the very same mistake you're about to make right now." He growled out.

Natasha lifted her head, staring at the man with her calm, piercing, unwavering gaze. "I'm going, Clint."

Wanda pushed herself off of the wall, stepping closer. "You'd be willing to place him above us, your own teammates? You're choosing him over us?"

"Don't be such a child." The woman scoffed, Wands glaring right back at the words. "I'm not choosing anybody over anyone else. I'm simply going to check on a friend."

Clint folded his arms. "Shockingly, I don't think that's the word he'd use to describe you."

"Better than what he'd use to describe _you._ "

That earned her another glare.

"Umm...c-can I just say...something...here?"

Four heads turned towards Scott, the man hesitantly lifting his hand into the air like a seventh-grader asking a question. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Look...I don't really know this Stark guys all that well. Actually...I don't really know _any_ of you all that well if we're really being honest here and-"

"The point, Scott." Sam muttered.

"Right, right!" The man huffed with a small nervous smile. "All I'm saying is that this seems like a pretty risky operation. And like, I don't know if I should be mentioning this to you or whatever but I was kinda a pretty good burglar back in the day and uh...one of the main things you always had to remember was to avoid any _unnecessary_ risks, and that's kinda what this sounds like. An _unnecessary_ risk."

Natasha lowered her head once more as she began to unzip the jacket. Sam glanced over towards the man. "You were a robber?"

"Burglar, actually."

"Is there a difference?"

Scott let out an annoyed huff. "' _is there a difference?_ " He echoed. "As a matter of fact-"

"Can we _focus_ please?!" Clint puffed with a well pointed glare towards the two bickering men. He turned back towards Natasha, who was shrugging the jacket onto her shoulders. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm. "Natasha-" He stressed, only for her to wrench her arm out of his grasp and lean forward, eyes sharp as they glared back at him.

"I'm _going._ " She growled, her voice taking on a deadly tone.

Wanda narrowed her eyes and took another step forward. "Stark doesn't care about you." She spat. "He doesn't care about any of us. He made that perfectly clear when he betrayed us." She huffed, folding her arms once again. "You honestly think he is worth all of this? You think he deserves you caring about him?"

"No."

All heads turned upwards towards the catwalk platforms above their heads, the new voice grabbing their attention. "In all honesty, he deserves a lot more. But this is all we have right now." Steve moved over towards the stairs. "So we're gonna have to make it work."

"Cap, come on, man!" Sam called as the large figure began to descend the metal stairs as he joined them on the ground. "You of all people have to be against this." he continued.

"You _cannot_ trust him. You have to understand that." Wanda stressed. "He is not our ally."

Steve stopped in front of them. Similar to the rest of them, he was dressed in casual clothes. A light grey shirt underneath a dark blue jacket, his actual uniform safely stashed away with the rest of theirs. On his face, there was the barest hint of a light beard. "Maybe not." he murmured. "But he certainly isn't our enemy."

Clint scoffed. "Wanna bet?"

"Barton, shut your mouth for one _fucking_ second before I shut it for you." Natasha snarled, taking a threatening step forward. Clint narrowed his eyes, but said nothing else.

Steve let out a sigh. "Look, I know this isn't ideal. And I know tensions are a little high right now a-"

"A _little_ high?" Sam echoed, crossing his arms. "You're kidding, right?"

The super soldier leveled him a hard look. " _But_ you all have to stop seeing this as black and white. Cause things aren't like that. Not anymore." He stressed before lowering his gaze. "Maybe that was the whole problem."

The others each shared small glances. The look on the man's face was the same look that always followed up his thoughts of Siberia. He never talked about it. They never asked. It was an unspoken agreement to never bring it up. In all honesty, they didn't want to.

After Steve and Barnes had broken them out of the Raft, they'd all fled. Wakanda had been the safest place for them at the time. Cap hadn't said much about what had transpired between him and Tony, other than that they had gotten into a fight, and a pretty bad one judging from the fact that Bucky's arm was...well, nonexistent.

Sam had been furious, of course. After all, the only reason he'd disclosed the man's location in the first place was because he'd made him promise to go as a friend and he'd done just the opposite. Steve assured the man that it wasn't like that. That things were much more complicated, but Sam - the others didn't see it that way. All they was was Stark hammering the final nail on their coffin.

They were fugitives.

And it was all his fault.

They just couldn't understand why Steve didn't see it that way.

"Look, I know this is hard. And I know none of you are in quite a forgiving mood right now." Steve uttered. "But you need to understand that Stark isn't the bad guy here."

"Well he certainly isn't the good guy." Clint muttered.

"What, and we are?" Natasha countered. Sam let out an angered huff. "He lied, Cap. He lied to my face. He promised he'd have your back in Siberia and instead, he tried to stab it an-"

"Sam." Steve cut in. "Just...just don't." He grunted. "A...a lot of things happened in Siberia that neither of us are proud of."

Wanda shook her head. "Why do you keep defending him?"

Natasha narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly, placing one hand on her hip. "I'm surprised you can't relate, Wanda." She called. "After all, you should know what it's like to let your emotions cloud your logic and dictate your actions. _Regrettable_ actions, I'd like to add." Her eyes were sharp.

Wanda clenched her fists, but said nothing, turning her head away.

"Listen, I know this is risky. That's why I'm sending Nat. She's the least likely out of all of us to stir anything up. But you have to stop thinking that we're the only ones who got the short end of the straw." He stressed. "Whether you all want to admit it, Tony is still our teammate. In a way, we were lucky."

"How do you figure?" Scott muttered.

Steve's brows furrowed. "We still have each other. We're still together. We still have each other's backs." He paused. "Tony...he doesn't have that. Not anymore."

It looked like Clint wanted to comment, but one well placed glare from Natasha had him shutting his mouth, obviously thinking better of it. Steve turned back towards Natasha. "She's doing this. You don't have to like it. You don't have to agree with it." He stared back at them. "But you do have to accept it. Cause we're not changing our minds."

With that, the man turned and walked out of the large room without another word. Without looking back.

It was final.

Clint stared after him before letting out a disgusted scoff. He glanced at Natasha one last time, his eyes hard and pained before he shook his head, leaving the room as well. Sam let out a small sigh as he followed him out, giving Natasha's shoulder a light pat before he left.

Scott stared after them, turning back to Natasha before letting out a small cough. He hesitantly stood up and jabbed a thumb in their direction. "I'm just gonna...yeah..." He murmured before quickly darting out of the room as well. That left just her and Wanda.

She paid little mind of the young woman as she rummaged through her own personal collection of things stashed off to teh side, fiddling with her pistol slightly before placing it back into it's holster.

"This is still a mistake."

The woman shut her eyes for just a moment before letting out a soft breath, raising herself back up as she turned to face Wanda, the girl's arms folded once again as he dark brown eyes leveled Nat a hard look.

The assassin was not phased by the look, however, as she stepped forward. "Listen, I know you ans Stark have your issues, and I get that. I'm not asking you to like him." She sighed. "But he's my friend." He eyes instantly iced over as her fists clenched. "So unless you have an actual reason for being here other than to spew out more garbage," She leaned closer, their noses almost touching. "I suggest you shut your mouth and keep your head out of my business. M'kay, kid?"

Without another word, the woman turned and walked out of the room, leaving a speechless Wanda behind.

She knew why they were against it. She couldn't really blame them. Clint and Scott had it the worst. They'd both left families behind. People they loved that they could no longer see. Whatever sense of normalcy they'd all had before this al had started had been shattered and nobody knew if it would ever be repaired.

Scott seemed to have a much different approach in dealing with his grief. Natasha noticed that the man had gotten closer with Sam and Wanda, sharing stupid stories and playing with the dck of cards he'd found in the garbage. She assumed that's just how the man was. Seeing things as half full, making what he could of the situation. The assassin couldn't say she knew him all that well yet, but she could tell he was a good man. And a good teammate.

Clint...

Clint had a much different approach to it.

He didn't hesitate in assigning his blame. Assigning someone to pay for his grief. For the loss of his family. And Stark seemed perfect to pay the bill. Natasha knew the archer and the mechanic had never been particularly close, even when they'd been on the same team. But she still remembered how Clint used to be. Joking around as he tried getting under Tony's skin. Relishing in the man's annoyance. Despite how often they butted heads, it was obvious they enjoyed the other's company.

Well...they had.

Nowadays, Clint seemed ready to maul the man's head off.

Sam...Sam didn't seem as mad as he was upset. Disappointed. But Natasha was willing to bet such feeling didn't really stem from his own pain, but from Steve's. The man was one of his best friends and it was obvious he was struggling. Sam could see it. Hell, they all could. And the man knew that Tony was the center of all that pain, all that grief. So of course, such feelings quickly led to his resentment of the billionaire. Not in the same degree as Clint, but it was still there.

Then there was Wanda.

Out of all of them, she was the youngest. The kid. The one who'd held the weakest connection to Stark before all of this had transpired. And even before then, tensions were high between her and the man. Even though she know knew the truth about the man and the weapons that had orphaned her - weapons that were being dealt under the table without his knowledge or consent - there was still a part of her that had blamed the man. And once all of this started, it seemed those tensions had now come to full light.

Natasha threw a small glance behind her at the large warehouse. Scott was laying in his corner on a bundle of dirty blankets he'd shaped into a bed, his leg propped up on a knee as he bopped his foot along to the rhythm of some nonexistent music. Sam was sorting the deck of cards for about the millionth time. Clint was wordlessly cleaning his bow, though he'd been doing it so often that the weapon now gleamed like steel, and Wanda sat above them on the catwalk, staring out one of the windows situated above them.

The assassin stared at the scene for a moment longer before lowering her head, stepping outside.

What had happened to them?

The brisk March air hit her hard as she opened the back door out of the warehouse. It didn't take her long to spot Steve. The man was standing up against the railings posted along the edge of the bayside walkway. The Hudson River shone brightly as it reflected the startling light of the sun overhead. He leaned against the metal railing, his elbows pressed down against the rusted metal as his hands hung limply over the edge.

Silently, the woman walked over, stopping right beside him. For a moment, neither person said anything. They simply continued to stare out at the bay, content with the silence that had risen around them. Across the large expanse of water, the low lying buildings of Queens stood out against the sky, shining bright flashes of the sun back into their eyes.

"I don't need to tell you what we're risking in sending you out."

Natasha didn't bother in turning her head. "I know." Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the man's head drop suddenly, his chin coming close to his chest as he shut his eyes, a small breath falling from his lips.

"Steve..." She called, moving closer. "It's gonna be alright."

The man shook his head softly. "Things haven't been alright since we started this shit." He muttered before glaring over at her as she opened her mouth. "I swear, if you say _language_ one more time."

Natasha turned away with a chuckle, Steve returning it with a soft smile of his own. He gazed down at the water, the soft, rippling currents lapping up against the side of the concrete walls. The man's smile slowly disappeared as he watched the small waves. "How was he?" He whispered. "Last time you..." He trailed off.

The woman glanced over at him before staring down at the water as well, her fingers tapping against the cold metal of the railings as she debated how to play things. "He...he was how you'd expect." She finally decided on. "Depressed, angry, bitter...sad." She shook her head before turning to face the super soldier. "Steve, it's...it's not good. I'm actually...a little worried." She confessed.

The man stared at her, his eyes full of the pain and regret Natasha had been seeing in them since he'd returned from Siberia. He shut his eyes and turned away, lowering his head once again. "And yet..."

He glanced back up.

"There was something else. I've seen him at his worst before. Trust me." She muttered, remembering a certain time she'd gone undercover. "But...there was something different. Last time, I was fully expecting to either find him on the floor in the corner of his lab, surrounded by empty bottles and covered in his own vomit-"

"Thanks for _that_ image."

"Or I was just waiting for him to straight up attack me on sight." She murmured. "But...it was different. Sure, he was just as bitter and frustrated as I'd expected, but it was like...it was like he was holding off for some reason." She explained.

Steve quirked a brow. "Pepper?" He asked.

Natasha shook her head. "No...no, as far as I can tell, they're still apart."

"That makes this worse." Steve grunted.

"Yeah, but I'm telling you, Steve. There was...it...it's like he was holding on to something...something else." She said. "I just don't know what it could be."

Steve's face hardened in thought as he turned his head back around, his eyes scanning the dark waters as he took in the woman's words. He glanced back over towards her as he recalled something she'd told him a few days ago.

"Didn't you mention a kid before?"

Nat glanced at him, shrugging her shoulders. "Yes, but...I don't know if that's what it is. I mean, he said the kid was just an intern."

Steve scoffed. "Well, let's not forget who we're talking about. Tony's not one to disclose what he feels or who he feels it for. Maybe this kid's more than he let him on to be." He explained.

Natasha furrowed her brows in thought. "Maybe..." She glanced back over at the man as he turned away, his hand coming to rub at the back of his neck as he sighed tiredly. She didn't need to be a world-class spy to know the man had been skirting by these past few weeks with only a few hours of sleep each night, if he even did at all. She could tell it was starting to take a toll.

"I know this has been tough on you, Steve." She murmured softly, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. His eyes scrunched tighter for a second before he opened them, keeping them locked onthe waters below. "I just...it's..." He paused, unsure of where to go.

The woman stared at him before pressing her tongue against her cheek. "I know you don't talk about Siberia. It's alright. You don't have to." She spoke softly.

Steve's hands clenched tightly around the metal railing, the soft sound of creaking filling the air as the rails bent like tinfoil underneath his grasp. Judging by the look on his face, the man didn't even realize he was doing it as he stared out over the bay. As the two sat there in the silence for a minute, Natasha wondered if he would say anything else. Finally, after a moment, the man let out a small breath as he glanced up towards the sky in exhaustion.

"...I couldn't lose him, Nat." He whispered, his voice soft and pained. "I couldn't lose Bucky. Not...not again. It's just..." He trailed off for a moment. "I never thought I'd be losing Tony in exchange."

She gently squeezed his shoulder. "You did what you could, Steve." She sighed, only for the man to pull away, glaring down at nothing. "Yeah, well it wasn't good enough! In...in protecting my friend, I was just hurting another. And now they're both..." He stopped, the words catching in his throat as he stopped, tightening his grip on the mangled metal before releasing his hands, turning away. "I just wish I could..." He didn't go on.

"I know you want to talk to him, Steve." She finally said. "But right now, I think that might do more harm than good." She explained, remembering with a wince how Tony had reacted just when hearing the man's _name_. She didn't want to think about what would happen when they came face to face. If they ever did.

Somehow, the thought that they never would was all the more painful.

Steve said nothing more as he continued to watch the small waves. Natasha knew she wouldn't get any more out of him. With a soft pat,she gave him a small smile. "I'll watch him, Steve. For the both of us." She vowed, her voice soft but determined.

The man turned to her before giving a nod. He watched as she pulled away, tightening the straps on her jacket as she began to make her way down the walkway, Stark Tower shining against the sun in the distance.

"Nat..." He called, watching as the woman turned back. Without saying anything, both people knew what was being said. _Be careful._

She stared at him for a moment longer before giving a nod of her own.

"I know."

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 30, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Offices**

 **04:21 p.m.**

Natasha liked to consider herself a pretty calm person. It took a lot to shake her, and it took even more to actually make her feel even a fleeting glimpse of nervousness. However, underneath the piercing gaze of one Pepper Potts, she could somewhat understand why her fingers were suddenly twitching by her sides.

Rhodey and Happy didn't really make things any easier, she'd like to add.

When she'd entered the office, she'd fully been expecting to see Tony _not_ working at his desk. So when she entered to see not just one of his _slightly_ irked teammates, but all three, she couldn't help but be a bit cautious.

"Ms. Romanoff." Pepper called coolly, her eyes revealing none of the shock that had been there when the woman had first entered the room. Happy, on the other hand looked like someone had just scratched his car with their keys while Rhodey seemed to be trying to keep his face neutral. It wasn't working all that well.

"What are you doing here?" Pepper continued, either not noticing her friends' displeasure, or choosing to ignore it. Her nails tapped against the desk, the sharp sounds radiating around the room.

"Yeah, In case you haven't noticed, there are quite a few people who are pretty keen in talking to you." Happy muttered. "And uh...it ain't us." He growled, quickly sizing the woman up. He noticed the slight bulge at her side where her gun was stashed and his gaze darkened, eyes catching Rhodey's as the man obviously caught sight of it as well. He cautiously slid closer to Pepper.

Natasha took a small breath, refusing to back down. "I came for Tony."

"Mm-hmm..." Rhodey nodded, his eyes narrowed. "And uh...just what do you want with him, huh?" He growled. "Here to tie up some loose ends for you and your gang of criminals?" She couldn't remember the last time the Colonel had spoken to her with such venom.

"Rhodey-" She started, her voice calm. She hadn't been prepared to deal with this monster of an issue today.

"Don't." He snapped. "Alright, I don't need another reason to reach over there and dial up Ross, kay?" He muttered, glancing over towards the desk, where the company phone sat. Pepper's hand was already sliding closer to it. Natasha made sure to keep the woman in her sights.

"So why don't you go and actually do something good for Tony for once and get out of here? Cause God knows we don't need anymore problems, and that seems to be all that you guys bring." Rhodes gripped the arm rests of the chair he was sitting in as he stood up, his leg braces whirring softly.

Natasha couldn't help but glance down at them before meeting his gaze once more. "Problems for us to fix. Problems for _him_ to deal with, alright? You've already done enough to us."

The woman took a small step back as she glanced down at the side, a sigh falling from her lips as she hesitated in bringing up the elephant in the room. This was _not_ gonna be good. She could already tell. "Look..." She said softly. "About Leipzig, about...about your legs, you have every right to-"

Rhodes stalked closer. "I'm not talking about my legs." His voice was eerily quiet. Natasha couldn't help but listen intently. The pit in her stomach cracked open even more.

"He trusted each and every one of you And you tried to kill him."

This...this was worse.

"So excuse me If I'm not jumping up to welcome you back." He snarled as the tips of Pepper's fingers grazed the phone.

"I'm not asking you to."

They turned back towards her as she lowered her gaze. Pepper's hand paused.

"I know better than anyone just how badly we screwed up, alright?" She uttered.

"Hmph." Happy sniffed. "You sure about that? Try spending a couple hours around here, you'll see just how _badly_ you screwed up." He growled, glaring back at the redhead.

" _But-_ " She stressed. "That doesn't mean I don't want to try and fix this. I know it might not seem like it, but I care about Tony. And I hate how things turned out." She explained, hoping to alleviate some of the fears she knew they had to be feeling. "I know we messed up. I know you all were just trying to do what was right. I know...and I'm sorry." She took a breath. "I'm sorry for what's happening now."

Pepper, who had remained quiet for most of the conversation, let out a small sigh as she ran a hand through her hair. "We all are." She said softly. The other two men glanced over towards her before the anger in their faces seemed to die down a little.

Realizing she'd have to make the most of their small moment of calm, she stepped forward. "All I want to do is try to make things right. I know it'll take a while." She murmured. "I'm willing to try. And I know I have no right to ask this..." She couldn't help the small spark of hesitation that silenced her for a second before she found her voice once again. "But I'll need your help."

Happy couldn't help the scoff that fell from his mouth. "Oh, jeez. You gotta be shitting me." He muttered.

"Look, I know you don't trust me." She pushed on despite the looks she was getting. "Tony doesn't either. I can't blame you all for that. But I do know that you all want this to end just as badly as I do." Judging from the way their faces all twisted into looks of remorse, she was certain she'd hit her target. "I can't work towards that unless I have your help."

She knew it was true. Tony's circle of trusted allies was diminishing greatly and if there was even a chance that she' be able to make things work with the man, she'd need inside help. These three were her ticket in, but she couldn't do much if they started putting up a wall. Tony was already trying to do that. If they joined him in the endeavor, she could forget about her plan to make things right.

Rhodey folded his arms. "And what are we supposed to do, exactly? It's not like we can apologize _for_ you."

"No, but Tony still trusts you." She explained. "You're some of the only people that can help him now. I can only do so much."

Pepper stared at her, drinking in her words. The last thing she wanted was for Tony to get worse. Things were already pretty unsteady with the billionaire. The last thing they needed was a push in the wrong direction. Still, she couldn't help the small twinge of hope that flared at the fact that perhaps this could be a push in the _other_ direction. Maybe this was _exactly_ what they needed now.

"You're here at least." She murmured. "That's more than I can say for _some_ members of your team." Pepper growled, eyes narrowing as she thought of one particular star-spangled pain in her ass.

Natasha quirked a brow. "Do you really think I'd be a good idea to have him here?"

Pepper let out an annoyed sigh as she lowered her gaze to stare at the surface of her desk, which was littered with papers. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that both Rhodey and Happy were giving her small looks. She had been in enough board meetings to know what those discreet looks meant. They were asking her what she thought. They were waiting for her word.

The woman stayed silent for a moment as she traced her fingers along the edges of the pen in her hands. "I hate seeing him like this." She finally said.

Natasha watched as Rhodey gave a slight nod at the woman's words, apparently finding more meaning in them that she had, for he turned back toward her, a new resolve showing in his face. "We all do. And considering you're one of the reasons he's like this, I'm still incredibly tempted to grab that phone."

The assassin couldn't help the way her muscles tensed slightly at that.

"But...if you're serious. If you _actually_ want to try and help him work past this..." The man trailed off for a moment before letting out a sigh, running a hand down his face. "Then we'll see what we can do." He glared back up at her. "Don't take this as an agreement. We still don't trust you. It's just a consideration."

However, the woman let a smile fall onto her face at his words. "That's all I'm asking for." She murmured softly before turning to glance at the door behind her. She opened her mouth to speak once more, but apparently the Colonel knew what she was about to say before she'd even said it.

"Down in the lab. That's usually where you'll find him nowadays."

The woman nodded softly before turning around. "Natasha."

she glanced back over her shoulder, one hand coming to rest on the frames along the doorway. Pepper stared back at her, green eyes strong and sharp as her face tensed in a hard look. "Don't hurt him again."

Natasha stared at her for a moment, before glancing around at the others in the room, seeing a similar statement reflected in all of their faces. "That's the last thing I want to do." She said softly before walking out of the room.

They stared after her for a few moments, saying nothing as they wondered whether or not they'd just made the right choice. The last thing they wanted was for one of the Rogues to get anywhere near Tony. They knew the man wasn't in the best place emotionally and that could sometimes lead to him making some pretty rash decisions. Decisions he could come to regret later.

However, they also knew that someone had to do something. Someone had to take the first step. They just weren't expecting it to be one of the Rogues, let alone Natasha. But...if there was a chance, if there was hope that the assassin could somehow put them down the road of resolve, then maybe that was a chance they'd have to take.

Happy folded his arms over his chest, quirking an eyebrow as he glanced over at the others.

"Isn't it Wednesday today?"

 **. . . . .**

Natasha exited the elevator, noticing how FRIDAY's voice had been particularly short with her. Could AI's even be annoyed with you? Considering she'd been built by Tony, the assassin wasn't willing to bet against it. In fact, the billionaire had probably ordered her to be extra sassy to the Russian.

The thought had her rolling her eyes. _Well, at least he hasn't lost his sense of humor. Or his annoyance..._

As she rounded the corner of the lab, she felt herself stop short as she noticed someone sitting by one of the main work tables. Taking into mind whose lab it was she was entering, most would assume the figure was just Tony. The fact that it wasn't added a whole new level of shock to the woman's mind.

This was _not_ her day, was it?

The figure was small. So definitely not Tony. Considering he was wearing both a sweater and a jacket that were too big for him, it was difficult to really get a good read on him, but the woman was willing to bet he was incredibly skinny. He had curly brown hair that draped down over his forehead, and light hazel eyes. However, the most noticeable thing about the boy was that he was nearly as pale as the paper he was writing on, which made the dark bruise on his face stick out all the more.

For a moment, the woman could only stare at the boy, who she was willing to bet was only around thirteen, maybe fourteen. She couldn't tell what he was working on from where she was standing, but she could make out what looked like textbooks on the table as well as a raggedy backpack sitting at his feet.

The boy obviously didn't notice her as he continued to work, his brows furrowed in concentration and his nose scrunched slightly as the tip of his tongue poked through his mouth while he scribbled down on the paper, seemingly lost in his work. Natasha had to admit, the dead concentration in his features was nearly a mirror to how Tony was whenever he worked.

Of course, Tony never looked so adorable when he worked so...there was that.

She was moving closer before she could think better of it, ideas as to who the child might be speeding through her head. She liked to think that Tony wouldn't be able to hide the fact that he had an illegitimate child from her, but it was hard to ignore what was in front of her.

After all, the old Tony had been a bit more...exuberant. Especially when it came to the opposite sex.

However, as she moved closer, the pages around the teen became clearer and cleared until she could read the large print embedded on one of the plans. Her eyes widened slightly as she lifted her head back up. " _You're_ his intern?" She asked before her brain could catch up with her, a situation that almost rarely never happened.

The teen's head whipped up, eyes widening as he caught sight of the woman before him .

Okay, she was _definitely_ off her game today.

* * *

 **NEW UPDATING SCHEDULE:. . . . . . . . . FUCK IT**

 **ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, NEW CHAPTERS WILL BE POSTED EVERY TWO WEEKS ON MONDAY-FRIDAY**

 ***sucks in deep breath* listen...I tried. I tried so hard to post this on time but I went to Savannah with my family this weekend and then I went to go see Ant-Man and The Wasp on Tuesday with my friends cause I still like to pretend I have a life outside of this story (movie was great btw, you all should see it) so my schedule was all wonky. And I wrote like 20,000 words in the span of two days. Like... i need a break man.**

 **Plus add on the fact that I still need to finish up some assignments for school and it's just a mess. So instead up posting on one specific day, I will be posting every two weeks on weekdays (Monday-Friday).**

 **That means every two weeks, I may update on any day other than Saturday and Sunday. this way, you all still get a semblance of a schedule and I have the chance to breath, cause BTW this chapter is 30,000 words long.**

 **So that is why this chapter is now being split into two parts. Hooray!**

 **I swear I'm not doing this on purpose...**

 **LIterally, I was like "this isn't gonna surpass 10,000 words" and now it's 1 am and I'm not even halfway done and I'm at 20,000 words and I'm just like..."well shit. this isn't going out on Wednesday, I can tell you that."**

 **So sorry for whatever inconveniences this causes but it's just how this is gonna be. Especially when school starts up for me again. Just gonna casually start junior year of high school. You know, only the hardest year out of all of them. Plus, I'm taking the Holy Trinity of Death with my A classes just cause I like to torture myself so that'll be fun. But not as fun as the updating nightmare that is sure to come.**

 **...**

 **...**

 **I think I need a virtual hug.**

 **'Whatevernobodyevercaresaboutotherpeoplesproblems. Anyway! Originally, this chapter wasn't gonna contain the Rogues. I was just gonna have Natasha walk in on Peter and that be that. But it didn't seem to flow all that well so..heh..**

 **BEGIN THE EDITING NIGHTMARE**

 **Long story short, you lucky sandras you got to see your favorite rogues, complete with special guest: Betsy Ross! Don't worry, this was just a little snippet. You'll see a lot more of them as the story progresses**

 **Just a heads up, the next chapter will probably be out sometime next week. I know, I just updated my schedule and now I'm not even sticking to it, but considering this left of on a pretty big cliffhanger and I already have the next chapter nearly complete, I';;; probably just post it early to put you all out of your misery.**

 **P.S . . . . _The Dark Room?_**

 **Anyway, thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: _momocandy2, Jvin2866, Mahquenziles, Ftxfusion24, Aunknowntimelord, Athena Sukura Parhenos, Woah Fanfiction, KittieBrick, Megz16, Sarabeth 2592, Sirfan, SoranoxSora, juicourt818, totallynotachicken, Toatasaurus, GottaLoveMyFandoms9731, adharsy14, takenbytheflash, jadenpoohbear, DustbeamMoth11, Manaphylover, Story5, Caraline Fisher, .9., Beckylouisee, missgemmaa, Rolosumm, Theclumsyone1369, duaa5141, Raven AKA Birdsteeth, Cupernum, Rebel for Hire, oliviajk42, LoonyLovegood1981, Cscorey, AshlineNight97, Dawn Racer, MamrieHart, PrairieWinds, d8rkforcen1ght7; Idkimjusthere, Shadow-wolf78, anyctophilian, Dementors, TheOlympus, Beckylouiseee, CrazyLich70, Monuchrome, EeveeEvolutions, OlympianChaos, Complicated-little-Jellie, Dawn Racer, nelliej2324_**

 **Reviews:**

 **EmilyF.6: Gracias, chica. If it was the other Avengers you wanted, well then this chapter is probably the one for you. You'll definetly be seeing more of them as the story progresses too so you have that to look forward too :)**

 **Web-HeadSuperFan: Chapter Five, huh? Wow, it wasn't even good yet. Thanks, man! Oh, god I know right. All those OCs get so annoying and it's so blatantly obvious that they're meant to be the fix-all character, the straight laced one who seems to have the solution to every one else's problems and everyone always cares about them and it's like, blah! If I wanted to read about your beautiful (but doesn't know it), poor, sporty, tough, can't seem to find love character, then I would have just read a Twilight book or something. Those usually have about the same quality, don't you think? God, I'm getting salty. Probably cause it's like 3 in the morning and I'm still writing. Probably not the best idea...As for that extra character I'm adding in later, I'll give you a hint. He's from the movies. So TV shows are not included. Oh, also it's a he. And it's strictly MCU so no X-men.**

 **BabyPinkPuppy: Oh, same dude. Fire is one of those things that is just so wonderful to write. Cause it's really something that can affect all of the senses at the same time and it's just. God I love it! Mostly cause I can use it to hurt all of my characters XD Sam really is one of the underrated characters of the MCU. And he's so funny too so it's just, uhh! Also, you'll start to see Peter's progression with that whole physical contact issue he seems to have. Don't you worry. I'm nothing if not consistent with my character development. I can't stand stories without it.**

 **Phoenixhp5: It's gonna take more than a couple words from some bird-brain to sway Peter at this point. You're gonna be seeing a lot more of Natasha too so get ready for that.**

 **lil cometz: Aww, Sam...poor, stupid Sam. It's okay, baby. We still love you.**

 **ParadoxicOrder8: Hehehehe...okay...**

 **HeCallsMeBeloved: You wanna talk about writing so much? This chapter was literally past 30,000 words. It was so big i has to split it in half! In frikkin half! Like, what?**

 **scc4: Well here you go, man. Scream away! *pokes at crown* I am a Queen aren't I? JK, i'm joking XD anyway, Peter _is_ the most precious thing and you'll definetly be seeing more of that as the story progresses so there you go. **

**doylereborn208: Who doesn't love a bit of natasha?**

 **QwertyWerido: Haha...you wanna talk about cliffhangers? Try this one on for size? Don't worry, I think I might bend my rules for updating with the next chater only cause I'm already done with it now. Duh, I literally had to split up my chapter into parts cause it was so big. Anyway, for that mystery character, I'll give you a hint. He's male and from the movies. So TV shows are out. Also it's only MCU so no X-men.**

 **Seawell: Oh, man. For the dialogue, I finally found out a good way to write it with proper flow and make it not seem to disjointed. Instead of writing out the details along with the actual lines of dialogue altogether, I write the dialogue first, just messy typing with typos and no punctuation. Literally just whatever pops into my head as I have these two characters converse in my head, just thinking :okay, then he would say that. Oh but then she would counter with this" That allows me to get the flow of the dialogue in place. Then I go back and rewrite it with polished grammar and details and all that shit.**

 **Luckias: *grabs bucket and begins to fill with the raining cookies...opens mouth to catch cookies for good measure* No need for time travel, my dear. Here you are.**

 **Yabas: Well, now you get to see Nat and Cap truly interacting with each other. Have fun!**

 **Song of Magic: Well I suggest you get used to it, dude. It's just my style of writing to include realistic pauses in the dialogue so I suggest you learn to live with it XD**

 **TheOlympus: *pats on head* good reader. Great reader. Lovely reader! Go! Have a glorious day you sexy thing you! Frolic!**

 **Ammy of Asgard: For the Homecoming aspect, I'll only be using a little bit of the antagonist plot line. The characters won't be the same and the storyline is still gonna remain my own, but the whole deal with the weapons I can't say wasn't based off of that movie so I guess you can say it is inspired by that. Also, you have no idea how long it actually takes to respond to all of these comments, like DAMN!**

 **FanficFan90: Hope this answers your question**

 **Toni42: Yeah, you're gonna see that the issues brought up in this story aren't gonna be resolved in the span of one chapter. It's gonna take some time, but hey, this story's gonna be around 40+ chapters so whatever! We got time!**

 **PrincessNaina: The Rogues will start to take center stage soon. Just you wait**

 **anyctophilian: Tears...of...joy?**

 **LoonyLoveGood1981: Gracias, and yeah I guess I do have a lot inner reflection. But sometimes when I'm reading stories on this site the characters will do something that is not like themselves and there will be no explanation of the mindset behind that. So I guess I just try to avoid that. Plus I just like to convey where everyone is emotionally, logically, etc with their actions, so that probably isn't gonna change anytime soon.**


	11. Rule 5 Part ll

**Chapter 11: Rule 5 Part ll**

* * *

 _5) I Will Never Eat Without Permission_

* * *

For a second, all the two could do was stare at each other, neither making the smallest of movements as their gazes stayed locked onto one another like two animals baiting for one to make the first move.

The only sound in the room was the faint whirring of Stark's bots " _working"_ somewhere on the lab's upper levels, though the steady sound did little to distill the tension. Natasha was the first to snap out of the trance-like state as she blinked her shock away, taking a step forward so small, it barely even registered to her.

Nevertheless, it was enough to have the boy rearing back violently, a small yelp falling from his lips as he nearly launched off the chair, stumbling backwards as pages flew everywhere.

Natasha was used to having people react in such a way whenever she appeared, but considering the child's age, she was fully expecting the fear to quickly be replaced by starstruck wonder (which probably wasn't good considering her criminal status). After all, it wasn't many who didn't know who she was. And most kids were too young and awestruck to actually be smart enough be afraid of her like most adults.

Well, that didn't seem to be the case with this kid.

His eyes were wild and frantic as he stared at her like a mouse cowering from a prowling cat. His hands shook in front of him as his hair bounced around as his entire body seemed to quiver.

For a moment, the woman wondered if perhaps the child had heard something about her. She thought back to Tony. The only place he could have heard anything was from his supposed mentor, but as she stared at the shivering boy, it quickly became apparent that it was not the case. Tony would never tell a _child_ such things to have him react like _this._

She took a small step forward, extending her hand out hesitantly in peace. The gesture was lost on the boy as she approached. Instead, he stumbled backwards again, his back slamming against the back wall as he tripped over his own feet, pushing himself into the corner as a small, pained noise fell from his lips, his chest heaving violently as his eyes filled with a fear Natasha had only ever had the displeasure of seeing on missions.

Kill missions.

For a moment, the woman could only stare as the child literally cowered before her. A sharp pain filled her chest at the thought that the kid was actually _this_ afraid of her. A pain that she'd gotten used to feeling, gotten used to numbing down. It was easier to convince herself that the people giving her those looks deserved to be afraid, deserved what was coming to them. But seeing it come from a child...

She licked her lips as she opened her mouth, only to pause as she took notice of something by her foot.

One of the papers from the table had fallen over to her. Stealing another glance up towards the teen, she reached down, purposely making her movements as slow and visible as possible. She could practically _feel_ the boy's gaze on her.

Grabbing hold of the paper, she continued to kneel on the ground, drastically shifting her height so that her demeanor wasn't as ominous. The teen continued to stare down at her as she slowly held out the page. His eyes darted from the paper, to her hand, to her face.

She let a small smile grace her lips as she stared at the teen. The look wasn't as forced as some of the others she had to give. For a moment, it almost felt a little refreshing. She pushed down such a thought and focused back up, giving the page a slight shake. "It's okay." She said softly, her voice calm and quiet. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

The boy continued to stare at her, his eyes scanning her up and down as he seemed to size him up. She tried to ignore the small flare of unease that arose at such a fact. _She'd_ been trained to do such a thing. Why did a _child_ know how to do that?

For a moment, she wondered if the kid would simply refuse to say or do anything. God she hoped not. This would _not_ be a very good situation for Stark to walk in on. Surprisingly, she doubted freaking out his intern would get her on his good side anytime soon.

Just as she was about to drop her hand, a soft voice had her looking back up.

"Y...y-you're...you're the...the Black Widow...r-right"

It was quiet. Barely above a whisper. She heard it, nonetheless.

She gave a small shrug as she slowly stood back up, the teen's eyes never leaving her. "Most of the time." She gave a smirk, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in the boy's stance.

His fingers twitched as his eyes darted back and forth between her and the door behind her. Somehow, despite his flighty behavior, she didn't get the sense that he was trying to bolt. In fact, it almost looked as if he was fearful of the door, or at least, whatever might come _through_ it. "You...y-you were friends w-with...with Mr. Stark." He murmured. "Y...y-you were...you were in Germany."

She blinked down at him, taking in his words carefully. "Yes...yes I was." She spoke calmly. How much had Stark told him about all of that? She didn't think it was really something the man would talk about much, especially not with some random intern.

But perhaps he wasn't just another random intern...

She began to receive her answer as the teen's eyes began to shift. The film of panic and fear that had been layered over his eyes began to dissolve, leaving something else in its wake. His wide-eyes stare began to harden as his eyes darkened. His breathing picked up once again as his hands began to curl.

"You're...y-you're with Captain America." He growled, his eyes burning. "I...I know what you d-did. Y-you betrayed him. You...you _hurt_ him. M-Mr. Stark..." He trailed off, his breath coming in sharp pants as he full on glared at her. "You _left_ him! H-he was your friend and...and you just _left_ him!" He snarled.

Natasha took a step back at the ferocity in the child's voice, her eyes widening at the sudden 180 in his demeanor. One second, he was a cowering, stuttering mess. And the next he was shouting at Black Widow. _The_ Black Widow! She quickly realized why his gaze continued to flicker towards the door. He wasn't _afraid_ of what might come through it. He was afraid _for_ what might come through it. He was afraid of Tony coming into the room. He was afraid of her going for Stark, not himself.

"What...what are you doing h-here anyway? You're a criminal." He growled. "Did...did you come here to hurt him again? Well, d-don't..don't even _think_ about trying it...a-alright? I...I won't let you." He clenched his fists tighter. "S-so why don't you just crawl back underneath whatever rock you're all hiding under?"

Natasha stared at the teen, his cheeks slightly flushed pink as he snapped at her. It it weren't for the fact that the boy was skinny as s twig and barely reached up past her shoulder, the threat probably would have irked her. Instead, she simply cocked a brow.

"Wow."

Definitely not just some random intern, especially if he was _that_ passionate about something that didn't even happen to him. How much _had_ Tony told him? How much had he _not_ told him? Just what kind of intern _was_ this kid?

The teen continued to glare up at her as his breathing slowly began to level out once more, his skin slowly draining of the color that had peeked through in his flickering snap of anger. As he stared at her, his blazing eyes began to calm as he blinked rapidly, his gaze lowering as his eyes flickered around the floor almost as if his brain was trying to catch up with what his mouth had been spewing.

And once it did, Natasha had to do a double take at the second 180 the teen displayed before her.

God, she was getting dizzy.

His mouth finally quivered back open as his hands began to shake, a spew of verbal barf falling past his lips. "Oh...oh, god. Oh, god, I'm...I-I'm so s-so sorry!" He panted. "I just...I didn't...I-I just yelled at the Black Widow." His eyes shone with panic as he staggered backwards once again.

"You're...y-you're gonna kill me, aren't you?" He didn't wait for her to reply as he turned away, running a shaking hand through his curls. "Yep, you're g-gonna kill me and they're n-never gonna find my body cause i mean, y-you're the _fucking_ Black Widow and-"

"Language." She didn't know why. It just seemed right.

The teen continued on as if he hadn't even heard her. "-and...and I j-just _yelled_ at you. Y-you probably decapitate people just for..for _looking_ at you wrong and I-" He swallowed, or at least he tried to. At least he didn't vomit, like Natasha was expecting him to so she considered that a win. She wondered if the kid considered it one as well. She was willing to bet he did.

His face was getting paler, if such a thing was even possible. Beads of sweat were rolling down his temple despite the fact that the AC was constantly blasting in the room and it almost looked like he was swaying. What the hell was with this kid? And why did he look like he'd just had a date with death?

He pressed his face into his hands as he groaned. "I...I'm sorry. I don't...I-I don't know what...what I was t-thinking. I just...and...I couldn't stop and...I'm just sorry. I'm I-I...I'm sorry. I'm so, s-so s..." His voice tapered off and Natasha wondered if perhaps her small non-vomiting victory would have to be receded. But instead, she watched with morbid fascination as the teen's face froze, seemingly locking up in thought as his wide, glazed eyes stared at nothing, his mouth opening and closing slightly like a gaping fish. His shaking hands twitched as his nose scrunched slightly.

"No."

The word was soft. Barely anything. But Natasha could tell there was so much more behind it.

"No... no, you know what?" He face grew hard, a steely determination entering his eyes, which seemed to clear, if only a little. "I'm...I-I'm _not_ sorry." A small, joyous smile crept onto his face for a fraction of a second at the words, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was saying, before he swallowed once more, turning to face the woman. Natasha could tell by the look in his eyes that he was still slightly unsure, an aura of unease and caution still wavering around him, but the look on his face told her that his words were serious.

"I'm _not_ sorry." He repeated. "I'm...I'm _not!_ And you wanna know why? Cause...cause you're a... _bad_ person." He growled, pointing a shaking finger in her direction. "And...and you d-deserve to get yelled at! You're...you're mean!"

Alright, it was _obvious_ he'd never done something like this before. He continued nonetheless.

"You're _mean_ , and...and you're dangerous, and you don't d-deserve to be here." He narrowed his eyes, his feet shifting slightly in a nervousness that his face didn't portray. "And I'm...I'm not gonna let you hurt Mr. Stark again." He snarled, that particular sentence seeming to add a whole new wave of confidence over him.

"I know this is a horrible idea and I'm just digging my grave deeper with every word that spews out of my stupid mouth, but I'm talking...and...and I'm obviously... _saying_...words and...and I'm just gonna keep going cause it can't get any worse than this!"

Alright, Natasha was trying real hard to keep the smirk off her face now.

"I'm not gonna stop. I... _really_ should. But I'm not. Not this time! Not when you might...I just won't! But..." He paused, a new look of unsureness marring his features as he bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck. "Could you...maybe just do me a favor, mean lady?"

God, she was so telling Steve about this. Stark too. He'd probably give the damn kid a raise.

"Can, can you like...get it over with quickly? M-maybe skip out on the torture session? He murmured, eyeing the slight bulge on her hip where her gun was concealed warily. "Cause like...that...doesn't really sound all that appealing."

Natasha stared down at the kid as he finished, his gaze locking onto his shoes as he rubbed the tip against the cold tile floor, a soft squeaking reaching their ears. He fiddled with his hands as he tried to put on a brave face, which ended up looking like a sad puppy staring up at a bear. After a moment, the woman decided to end the teen's suffering, just not in the way he'd been expecting.

"Calm down, kid. I'm not gonna kill you." She muttered as she folded her arms over her chest.

The teen blinked up at her, wide eyes flickering across her face as he wrung his hands like a wet towel. "Oh...o-okay...that's g-good...that's good."

"Mmm..." The woman hummed. "And I'm not gonna hurt Tony either." She added with a roll of her eyes.

He glanced down at his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed slightly. "I...I hope you'll forgive me i-if I'm...not all that keen on believing you." He murmured, casting his eyes up once again. Natasha resisted the urge to blow out a sigh of annoyance. She was really starting to get tired of explaining herself.

She missed the days where whenever someone annoyed her she could just kill them. Short and simple. End of story. A little messy.

"Look," She sighed. "I know things turned out pretty bad. But he's my friend. That hasn't changed, despite what he might think." She stared hard at the boy. "I just want to try and make things right with him."

The boy continued to twist his foot on the ground as his arms stayed folded. He bit his lip before stealing another glance up. "You...y-you mean that?" He asked softly, his voice quiet and curious.

"Every word."

He seemed to think for another moment longer before he uncrossed his arms, placing his hands behind his back as he continued to twist the tip of his shoe into the floor. "A-alright...then...then I _am_ sorry for yelling at you, miss." He murmured, cheeks flushing with whatever color the teen's face _did_ hold. In fact, now that she was getting another good look, he almost had a resemblance of someone who was being malnourished. That would explain the pale skin, the apparent weakness and even the abnormally small body.

Of course, she was probably just overreacting. After all, Tony had told her this was Richard Parker's son, a man who was known for his money and his good name. So the idea of him having a son who was malnourished and underfed? It was practically ridiculous.

She stole another glance at the kid, watching as he swayed slightly before catching himself, the movement barely even noticeable has she not been staring straight at him.

She narrowed her eyes. _Then again...I'm quite used to having ridiculous take a whole new meaning around me._ She thought to herself.

"T-That was rude of me." The boy continued, refusing to meet her gaze all of a sudden. "Granted, you k-kind of deserved it." He stole a frantic stare up before letting out a nervous cough behind his hand. "S...still sorry." He whispered.

Natasha couldn't keep the humored smirk off of her face any longer. "It's alright, kid. I _did_ kinda deserve it." She chuckled before taking a step closer, extending out her hand. "I'm Natasha."

She expected the gesture to be returned quickly, but the teen simply stared at the outstretched hand with a nervous eye as he bit his lip and curled his arms around himself, Natasha quickly making a note of said action. _Alright...no touching. Got it._ She muttered to herself.

"P-Peter..." He responded after a second.

"Parker. Yeah, Tony told me about you."

Peter quickly seemed to take interest, tilting his head slightly. "R-really?" He asked, the slight lift to his voice saying he hadn't expected such a thing. "W-what'd...what'd he say?"

"Said you were a smart little thing." She raised a brow. "Though I didn't know he literally meant _'little'_. How old are you anyway?" She asked.

Peter glanced back towards the table where he'd first been working before turning back to her. "Fourteen." He answered, watching her face twitch in what he could only assume to be her version of surprise. "Um...is that... _all_ he told you about me?" He asked, trying not to display the nervousness he was feeling inside on his face.

Natasha was quick to pick up on it anyway. "Yeah...why? Is there something else?" She asked, more teasing than anything else, though it was a valid question.

However, Peter didn't seemed inclined to share as he said nothing, turning away as he carefully walked past the woman and made his way over towards the table from before. He tried not to tense up his muscles at the fact that he no longer had the dangerous woman in his line of sight as he stooped down onto his knees to pick up the scattered papers.

He also tried to ignore the fact that his hand was shaking as he reached for the papers. Though, to be honest, he couldn't be too sure that it was all just because of his nerves. The small bout of dizziness that rocked him as he reached for a particularly far page had his suspicions all but confirmed.

He reached for another page, only for someone else to grab it first. He stole a small glance up and gazed at Natasha as she held out the page to him. A small flash of deja vu washed over him before he pushed it down, tentatively taking the page from her hand as he stood up once more.

Either Natasha didn't see the way his body staggered as he rose back up, or she chose to not say anything about it. He was willing to bet on the latter. Shakily taking a seat on the stool by the table once again, the teen placed the pages down and caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the metal table.

He tried not to wince at the sight. His skin was nearly the same shade as the papers he'd just picked up and his eyes were dark and dull, matching the bags underneath them. His hair was a bit messy as large curls drooped down against his forehead, though they didn't do much in hiding the large bruise that still took up nearly half his face. It was hard not to notice the fact that the bruise hadn't started to fade yet, which was strange considering with his healing it might have at least shrunken down. But instead, it was the same dark purple as before.

Peter let out a small sigh as he turned away from the image. If there were any silver linings in that moment, it was that his head was at least opting to stay attached to his body, which was a welcomed departure from the pain of that morning. The migraine pills that Michelle had given him were strong, even for him and his stupid-fast metabolism. So while they weren't as effective as they would have been for a normal person, they were at least better than the run-of-the-mill pain killers that did all but nothing for him.

The girl had given him more at lunch, after nearly shoving a granola bar into his hand. His stomach had churned painfully at the thought of eating it, but one look from MJ had him forcing it down. It was better than the sandwich she'd wanted him to eat at first. The granola bar was their version of a compromise.

Now that he thought about it, Michelle and her overbearing, forceful attitude were probably the only reason the boy hadn't collapsed sometime earlier in the day. Of course, now that a couple more hours had passed, Peter was beginning to feel the effects of his hunger once again.

He glanced up and noticed that Natasha was now sitting across from him, staring intently. He felt a chill run down his spine at her gaze. It wasn't harsh, just piercing. Observant.

He didn't like that.

She seemed to notice his discomfort as she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. "So how'd a kid like you cross paths with someone like Tony Stark?"

Peter blinked at her before lowering his gaze once more, grabbing his pencil as he gently poked the tip with his finger. "Mr. Stark w-was really interested in...in my application. S-said I looked promising. He...uh...he t-took an interest in me, I guess. I...I don't ask too many questions. I'm l-lucky enough to just _be_ here. I...I don't wanna ruin it by...you know...being _myself_."

He didn't meet her gaze again as he blatantly ducked his head, eyes drilling into the paper as the pencil began to scribble notes along the lines. Natasha watched him, saying nothing as she reran the words he'd spoken over in her head. One of the main things she'd taken to notice when he spoke was his stutter. There were times where it seemed like an involuntary thing, something he couldn't control, and other times where it seemed more stress related.

She tilted her head quizzically. She'd have to study him more to find out.

She gazed down at the plans that were scattered around him, her eyes reading over the title once again. "Arc reactor, huh?" She echoed, Peter stealing a small glance up. "Guess you are pretty smart."

She expected him to blush or thank her. Instead he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, eyes downcast as he continued to write, propping one cheek up with his fist. "Mr. Stark thinks so I guess. I...I don't know." He murmured, his voice quiet.

She narrowed her eyes, leaning closer. "I'd assume so, kid. He doesn't let just anybody mess around with his work. And this is basically his pride and joy next to his oh so precious suits." She said with a roll of her eyes. Peter gave a small smile at that, Natasha noting it as the first time he'd seemed happy, in a sense. She continued. "Give yourself a little credit. I'd say he's taken a liking to you."

Peter gazed at her for a moment longer before turning back down, remaining silent. Though the woman was able to pick up on the smallest trace of another grin.

They said nothing for a while, the silence enveloping the pair in a comfortable embrace as Natasha simply watched Peter write, sometimes taking small glances around the lab. Finally, after a few minutes of Peter stealing small stares up (which Natasha noted were painfully obvious), he finally decided to speak.

"Umm...Miss Romanoff, M'am?" He murmured.

"Natasha."

"Right." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Um...I d-don't mean to be rude or anything and y-you definitely don't have to answer if you don't want to but...but...um...what a-are you doing here? I don't want to offend you but y-you're kinda...well not kinda...a...um...wanted criminal." He finished with a wince as he ducked his head slightly, almost as if he expected her to reach over and slug him in the face.

She stared at him for a moment, face cool as she glanced towards the door. "I just wanted to see a friend."

"I thought Captain America was your friend."

She blinked in mild surprise at the new tone of voice, the teen almost seeming annoyed as he fiddled with his pencil once more. She gave a small smirk as she leaned forward, propping an arm up on her knee.

"Sensing you don't head up the Captain America fan club at school, huh?"

He didn't smile. "All he did was run off and cower after trying to kill my idol of ten years." He scoffed and glared down at the floor. "Why wouldn't I adore him?"

Natasha let out a sigh as she turned away. "Look, kid. Things were-"

"Complicated. Yeah that's what everyone keeps telling me." He muttered, eyes narrowed as he glared at the papers, clenching the pencil tighter. "I know what that means. Just means _'keep your nose out of our shit, kid. It doesn't concern you'._ I know how to read between the lines." He stared back up at her. "That's where you find all the best secrets."

The woman blinked. _The stuttered was gone._ "Or the worst ones." She finished, the teen glancing at her before giving a small dejected shrug.

She ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek in thought before leaning back once more. So...what kind of secret is that shiner on your face, if it's a secret at all."

Peter stared at her for a second, his eyes shining with something she couldn't trace before it was gone. "Not much of a secret that I'm...I'm probably the clumsiest person on the p-planet. I just had a l-little accident in the kitchen a few days ago. It'll...it'll be gone in a couple days, tops."

 _It was back_. Hmm...strange.

He also hadn't mentioned why he looked two shades away from being legally classified as a walking cadaver. However, taking into consideration the uncomfortable aura that was already surrounding the teen, she decided that perhaps it wouldn't be the best idea to stress him out even more.

The last thing she needed was Stark walking in on her with an unconscious teenager.

Instead, the woman decided to move the conversation elsewhere. She ran her fingers along the edges of one of the textbooks that had been left on the table. Peter watched her out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything.

"Spanish homework, huh?" She murmured absentmindedly, though Peter still picked up on it. "Jesus, you really are still just a baby."

The teen's cheeks instantly flushed as he scrunched his nose and glared at her. Whatever effect he wanted it to have, Natasha was willing to say that the opposite was true. He literally looked like a pouting toddler. "I'm not a baby." He muttered.

She couldn't help but smirk. "Cranky from all the homework they're giving you? I'd assume so. It must take away from your nap time." She chuckled. Peter grunted in annoyance, though the woman could detect the hint of a smile as he rolled his eyes.

"Not really. Spanish i-is kinda the least of my worries. It only took me like ten minutes to finish."

Natasha quirked a brow. "Too boring for a baby genius like yourself, huh?"

Peter didn't seem to react too much to the nickname as he let out a tired sigh, running his fingers against his eyes. "It's just...it's so easy. And I know this is a language that c-comes up a lot more often in life than...I don't know...than Latin or something, but at least that would be a challenge. This is..." He gestured towards the textbook. "- _painfully_ easy." He sighed.

"Besides, it was either this or ASL but I'm almost ninety percent sure the ASL teacher...kinda...hates my guts." He muttered.

"Why?"

"Does she even need a reason?" He rolled his eyes. "I think it's cause I a-accidently dropped my math textbook on her toe one time in the hallway." He grimaced. "I didn't n-need to know sign language to tell what she was saying to me after that." He blushed slightly and gave a small shudder.

Natasha chuckled as the teen threw her a small, nervous grin. She watched as he turned back towards the plans for the arc reactor, pencil moving quickly as he jotted down whatever nerd stuff he and Tony did in here.

As she stared, she couldn't help but finally come to realize what Tony had meant all those days ago. "You really _are_ weird, kid." She murmured absentmindedly.

Peter didn't even look up. "I'm not even gonna ask whether it's a good weird or a bad weird. N-nobody can ever seem to give me a straight answer so I'm just gonna assume it's somewhere in the middle."

Her words were true. The kid _was_ strange. At first glance, he seems like your average, nerdy teenager. Pale, skinny, lanky, fidgety. But even there, he wasn't normal. It almost seemed as though he was _too_ nervous. Like he was expecting something bad to already happen. He stuttered constantly, he didn't make much eye contact and he didn't seem to like to be touched. All three factors weren't good signs in themselves. But put all three together and you have reason to be concerned.

But what shocked her even more was how fast all of that could change. One second he was a stumbling, blubbering mess. And the next he looked like he was two second away from calling her a bitch. He'd been angry, mad, determined, confident. Nothing like the teenager she'd seen at first.

And it all seemed to stem from one thing.

Tony.

The second the teen realized who she was, what she could do, what she _had_ done, he'd dropped all nerves and insecurities. It was so quick that she'd almost gotten a sense of whiplash from it. But the boy had held fast, strong-willed and sharp tongued.

And it was all to defend Stark. Not himself. Whenever it turned on himself, he became that same stuttering, nervous wreck of a kid he looked like. But the second Tony came into play, it was like he was an entirely different person altogether.

She couldn't say it didn't fascinate her.

She stared at the teen.

This _definitely_ deserved further study.

"Well...Spanish might not give you much of a challenge, but most people find Russian to be a bit more complicated."

Peter raised a brow. "Huh?"

"Ты очень странный ребенок, но я признаю, что ты меня интригуешь." ( _You are a very odd child, but I'll admit you intrigue me)._

The teen's eyes quickly widened as he leaned closer. "Whoa...you speak Russian?" He gaped before shaking his head. "Pshh...what am I saying? Of course y-you speak Russian. You can probably s-speak whatever language you want."

She smirked. "Well I don't know about that, but my Russian is pretty good if I do say so myself. Or course, I've never tried teaching it before." She murmured with a mischievous glint in her eye, throwing the teen a small wink.

Peter gaped at her, blinking rapidly. "You'd...you w-wanna teach me Russian?"

The woman shrugged. "Why not?"

The teen's eyes lit up for a moment as he opened his mouth only to pause as he quickly reigned himself back in, lowering his gaze as he tapped his pencil against the paper. "I..I don't...you...y-you don't have to do that." He murmured quietly.

Natasha gave him a hard stare at the sudden shift in demeanor before folding her arms over her chest. "Trust me, kid. I don't do anything I don't wanna do. This, on the other hand, might be fun." She added with a shrug. "Besides, I'll never pass up the opportunity to make someone look like a fool. Usually, it's in the field, but I'll take watching you trip over your own tongue, too."

Peter perked up a little at that, giving a small sigh as he threw the woman an exasperated look. "Great...I already do that in my own language. Now I'll get to sound like an idiot in _two_ languages."

Natasha smirked as Peter smiled back. "That's the plan, kid."

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 30, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Private Labs 01**

 **04:48 p.m.**

Tony couldn't help but glance over towards his side as he walked, staring out the large windows that made up most of the wall in the long hallway. He cocked a brow and glanced down at the street below as he did a few calculations in his head.

"A fall from this height _has_ to be enough to kill me, right?" He muttered to himself before craning his neck even further, a sigh spilling from his lips. "Nah...I'm not lucky enough for that." He growled before continuing to walk down the hallway.

Suicidal thoughts such as those were usually what followed up a little chat with Ross. Of course, the suicide came _after_ he murdered Ross.

Kill Ross. Suicide Later. Yep, that was the plan.

The man sighed once more and ran a hand down his face. He'd just had to endure the idiotic man blabber on for the last half hour and now he wanted nothing more than to drown himself in all the alcohol they had in the goddamn building. No, scratch that. In all of New York City.

That _had_ to be enough to kill him.

 _I swear, I think he's trying to drive me insane_. He muttered to himself as he began to descend the few steps that led down to his lab. Of course, Ross had been up his ass about the Falcon sighting in the city, asking him why he wasn't doing anything about the situation. Tony's answer had been short and simple. " _Cause I don't care._ "

And he didn't. He couldn't care less about what those idiots were up to. Just as long as they stayed as far away from him as possible. They could have been blowing up Nigeria or some other stupid shit like that. They liked to cause mass destruction wherever they went, right? Yep, sounded perfect for them. A nice little pastime.

He groaned as he felt the beginnings of a migraine working their way up his brain as he walked closer to the lab doors. He'd left Peter inside with strict instructions to finish up his homework and then to move on to working on schematics for the arc reactor. The teen had only given a brief complaint about how ridiculous his homework was, to which Tony responded with " _everything we do in this lab is ridiculous. But at least_ that _helps you boost the askew and rigged American Educational System so do it."_

He knew the teen would. There were times when Peter reminded the billionaire of an overexcited police puppy. Ready to follow orders and nothing else. Almost like he'd been programmed that way. It was a bit scary sometimes. Hell, if Tony told him to jump off the building, he was frighteningly positive the kid would only give mild hesitation to the action before strapping on a pair of skydiving goggles.

Tony perhaps wasn't as alert and attentive as he could have been in that moment, his exhaustion probably a tangible thing in his face alone. However, as he moved closer towards the lab door, he couldn't help the small twinge in his chest that longed to be in there with Peter, if only to try and soak up some of that overexcited puppy energy.

God knew he needed a lot of that nowadays.

As he thought back to the teen, Tony couldn't help but think back to how... _off_ the boy seemed today. Oh, he tried to hide it, of course. But something strange about the teen that Tony had begun to pick up on was that he was a great liar. Like...incredible.

Unless, of course, he was trying to pull one over on Tony. Then it was like he'd literally been caught with his hand in the cookie jar; stutter, shifty eyes, sweaty hands, the whole shebang. The billionaire had no explanation for it. He would ask Peter if he wasn't pretty positive it would only make the boy panic.

It seemed a lot of things did that whenever he was like this. _'This'_ being pale, jumpy and downright miserable-looking. His skin was pale and his eyes were dull and the massive bruise on his face had had Tony's hand gripping his screwdriver a little tighter than necessary. Of course, before he'd had the chance to ask the teen about it, he'd been dragged away by a phone call from Secretary Douchebag.

He was almost afraid to hear the kid's answer, though.

However, as he moved closer towards the door, he began to pick up on the sound of voices. One of them he instantly recognized as Peter's, the teen's high-pitched, quiet tone being something he could probably pick out of a busy crowd. The other was...was...

 _Fucking shit-fuck_

Quickly rounding the corner, his hand lingered on the frame of the door as he bolted into the room, eyes widening at the sight.

Peter was sitting where he'd last left him, his elbows propped up on the table as he stared down at a piece of paper in front of him. However, it was not the piece of paper he'd started with half an hour ago. And he certainly wasn't alone anymore.

No, instead the page seemed to have a bunch of different symbols on it, other letters written in smaller print underneath those. Natasha sat next to him, her finger pointing towards one of the symbols as she glanced at the teen. They obviously hadn't noticed him yet, for they were still speaking... _Russian?_

 _What in the actual shit?_

For a brief moment, the billionaire should have been able to recognize the peaceful aura in the air of the lab. He should have noticed the fact that Peter didn't look worried or stressed at having the woman near him. He should have paused to wonder.

But all he could see was The Black Widow with Peter Parker. His intern. And all he _could_ recognize was the sickening twist in his gut - like a knife being twisted along his ribs - at the sight of the assassin sitting within even ten feet of the teen.

Nope. This was _not_ happening.

"Uhh...I hope I'm not interrupting anything." He called pointedly as he folded his arms over his chest, pushing down the strange urge to call his armor. This hadn't happened a few days ago. What _was_ this? Why was this happening now?

Both parties looked up at the same time, the atmosphere i the room instantly darkening. Well, at least for Tony and Natasha. Peter, however, seemed blissfully unaware as he gave the man a large grin. Though the innocent look as enough to answer the man's previous questions.

At least Natasha had the decency to look uneasy.

"Mr. Stark!" The teen called happily. "Hey, I met your friend. She's super cool, you know. She's teaching me Russian and it's really hard but she says I'm doing good so I think it's going okay!" He beamed, not noticing Natasha's strange look. Or the fact that Tony was staring at him like he'd just grown another head. "Oh and also, how come you didn't tell me you spoke Italian? That's super cool, too." He rambled, tilting his head.

Natasha switched her gaze from the bubbling teen to the frothing man across the room. Tony gave a small shake of his head. "Yeah...yeah, that's great kid. Um...here's a better question, though. Uh...what the hell do you think you're doing with _her_?" He asked, his voice hiding none of his anger as he glared at the spy.

She didn't look too phased. That made him angrier.

On Peter, however, his shift was instantaneous. Any and all color that had been coming back to his face quickly drained away as he gave the man a wide-eyed stare, flickering it between him and the woman beside him as he slowly stood up. "I...um...I just...d-did..." His stutter was back. With a vengeance. "Did you n-not know...s-she was...here?" The words were small.

Tony gave him a _well-duh_ look.

Peter quickly staggered away from Natasha as Tony moved closer. "Oh, god...oh, god...I...I-I...I'm so...so sorry, Mr. Stark. I...I thought that...t-that you...you knew she was here or that...t-that you at least k-knew I w...was talking to...to her and I..." His hands were shaking now. Not a good sign.

"I didn't mean to...i just...I-I...wasn't...I wasn't trying to...to side with...and I...I-I..." He was starting to pant. That was worse.

The second Peter started to struggle in getting the next word out, Tony stepped forward, trying to ignore how Peter flinched back at his sudden movement. "Whoa, whoa." He called loudly. "You need to start breathing right now, kid. It's not your ass I'm gonna kick out of the building, anyway." He muttered, glancing at Natasha, who was rising to her feet, inquisitive eyes locking onto Peter's quivering form.

He didn't like that at _all_.

"Come here, would you?" He muttered, grasping Peter's forearm as he yanked the kid forward, a small yelp of surprise falling from the teen's lips as Tony dragged him to stand behind him, blocking the boy from Natasha's view.

The assassin couldn't help but roll her eyes at the display. "Oh, would you relax, Stark? I didn't touch your little intern." She muttered, folding her arms. The man glared back at her. "You. You stay out of this, alright? I'll get with you in a second right after I make sure you didn't inject this idiot with whatever shit you have stored up your sleeve. Hey!" He called to Peter, snapping his fingers in front of his face. The teen flinched back, more out of shock than anything else. "Can you taste color yet?"

"What?"

"Don't deflect. Answer the question."

Natasha groaned as she stepped closer. "Tony, come on. You're overreacting. I didn't hurt him. We were just talking." She muttered with a glare.

Tony pointed a finger at her as he opened his mouth to spit something else out, only to pause as Peter latched a small hand onto the sleeve of his jacket. He glanced down, throwing the teen a quizzical look. "She's telling the t-truth, Mr. Stark." He stammered out, unsure of whether or not he was allowed to speak at the moment. "She didn't do anything. S-she's really nice."

That had Tony freezing. He glanced at Natasha before turning back to the kid. "Nice? What...I... _Nice?_ Geez, you really gave him the strong stuff didn't you?" He muttered over his shoulder as he grabbed the teen's chin, turning his head away to inspect his neck. "Alright, where did she inject you?" He growled, only for Peter to push his hand away, unable to keep the small giggle from leaving his mouth. "I'm being serious, Mr. Stark." He called, glancing back at the woman with a small smile.

"She asked me about my homework, the internship and I mean it about the Russian. She really _is_ teaching me." He stared up at the man. "It's pretty cool."

Tony stared down at him, eyes hard as he searched the teen's face. After a second, he turned around to glance at Natasha, who - _what the hell-_ was actually smirking at him? That little-

"Kid, do me a favor and head up to the second level. I need you to grab something for me."

Peter blinked up at him for a moment. "Um...okay? What do you need me to get?"

Tony pushed him towards the stairs. "I don't know. Something. Anything. Just make sure it takes you a long time to find." He muttered as Peter raised a brow, but said nothing.

The billionaire turned back to Natasha as Peter began to climb up the stairs. Tony noticed out of the corner of his eye as Peter stumbled on the stairs, a small sigh falling from the older man's mouth as he rubbed his fingers into his eyes. "This kid..." He muttered, Natasha giving a small chuckle. "He is...uh...something. I'll give him that."

"Yeah, about that," Tony muttered stepping closer. "Didn't I specifically tell you to stay the hell away from him?" He growled, narrowing his eyes. Natasha's face continued to hold an aura of humor as she smirked. "No. you told me to stay away from _Spider-Man._ You said nothing about your baby intern."

Tony was about to retort that it was the same thing before he realized what it entailed, quickly stopping himself as he gave her a disgruntled look, huffing in annoyance as he rolled his eyes. "Well I'd assume you'd be courteous enough to include _anybody_ who's in the middle of this little skirmish of ours." He scoffed, refusing to show the relief he felt inside at the fact that Peter was now far away from her.

Natasha blew out a small breath from the corners of her mouth as she glanced up at the elevated floor of the second level, eyes narrowing in though for a moment before she turned back to Tony, who was straightening out the papers on the desk, glancing at the page with the Russian alphabet hastily scribbled on it, rolling his eyes slightly.

"What's wrong with him, Tony?"

The billionaire sharply turned to look at her, eyes searching her face for a moment before his lip curled and his eyes filled with something the woman couldn't seem to recognize. It was anger, sure. But there was something deeper there.

"What do you...what the hell do you mean? There's nothing _wrong_ with him." He nearly spat the words as he stalked closer.

Natasha raised up her hands in a sign of submission. "You know I didn't mean it like that, Tony." She spoke calmly, hoping to appease the fuming man. "But he...the way he acts...that's not normal." She stressed.

"What do you mean?" Tony muttered in annoyance, though Natasha could tell by the look in his eyes that he already knew what she meant.

"I mean, you don't become like that, reclusive, jumpy, fidgety... _scared_...unless something caused it." She explained. "And not many things that I can think of in a teenager's life should be able to do something like that." She stepped closer, Tony lifting his gaze to meet hers. "What happened?"

The billionaire said nothing for a moment before his eyes hardened and his jaw tensed. "I don't have to tell you shit." He all but growled at her.

The woman let out a small sigh as she leaned back, turning away as she ran a hand through her hair. She stared down at the floor as she leaned up against the metal table, arms crossing over her chest. "Well whatever it was, he didn't deserve it."

Tony glanced up in surprise.

The woman stared back at him, her gaze never wavering. "He's a good kid. A bit nervous at times, but..." She gave a small smile, a genuine smile. "He's...he's good." She gave a small smirk. "He seems to have taken a liking to you too. Nearly bit my head off the second he assumed I was here to hurt you."

Tony's eyes widened slightly. "What?"

The woman nodded. "Mm-hmm. In fact, I think his exact words were ' _I'm a mean lady'."_

His eyes seemed to double in size at that. "No he did _not_." He breathed, unable to keep the smirk off his face. "FRIDAY?" He called, glancing up at the ceiling.

" _I can confirm that Ms. Romanoff's words are correct. In fact, I even took the liberty of recording the entire affair."_

Natasha cocked a brow as she glared up at the ceiling. "Why?"

 _"No particular reason."_

The woman scoffed. "Yeah, right." She muttered, almost sure it was because she'd been getting her ass handed to her by a fourteen-year-old punk. Yep, it was official. FRIDAY definitely hated her guts at the moment. Great, another bridge she'd have to rebuild.

Tony watched the assassin glare at his AI for a moment longer before turning away with a deep sigh. He knew Natasha was one of the last people he really wanted to talk to, especially about stuff like this. But he couldn't stop a small part of his mind from wanting to disclose all he knew to her. Lord knew the assassin had to have some good advise on what to do.

Nevertheless, confessing all of it would mean trusting her, at least on some level . Trusting her with Peter.

He couldn't do that. Not...not with _him_. Not with the kid. He couldn't risk her hurting him.

He stared down at the ground, his gaze cold. "It's not what happened." He said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "It's what's _happening_."

Natasha stared at him, drinking in his words carefully. "Does this have anything to do with why it looks like someone smashed a grapefruit in his face?" She muttered, Tony merely sparing her a small glance before turning away again. He said nothing.

His silence was answer enough.

She gave a small nod of her head, realizing that was all the information she was gonna get. She walked over, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. The man didn't look up, but he didn't pull away either. She considered it a small win. "I'm sticking around, Tony. Whether you want me to or not. Cause I don't care what's happening with the others, with Ross, with...hell, with all of this." She gave his shoulder a small squeeze. "You can't stop me from caring about you."

The man said nothing for a moment before giving a small huff of amusement, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Wanna bet?"

She gave his arm a small pat as she moved away, walking towards the lab exit. As she neared the door, she placed one hand on the frame and paused. It was obvious in her stiff posture that she was hesitating with something, which was shocking enough. She _never_ hesitated. Nevertheless, she stilled for a moment longer before glancing over her shoulder.

"Ask him whether or not he's eaten anything today."

The billionaire turned to her, eyebrow raised. "What? What does that-"

"Just do it, Tony." The woman said, her voice hard. Tony fully turned around at that. Where was this coming from? She sighed and turned away for a second. "I...I just have...a feeling, is all." She murmured. "Maybe it's nothing. Just...it can't hurt to check."

With that, she walked through the door, disappearing from sight. Tony stared after her for a moment before his gaze returned to the floor, his brow furrowed in thought. He stayed like that for a while before he heard footsteps approaching. He lifted his head, watching as Peter hesitantly walked down the stairs, a white knuckle grip on the railing. In his other hand, there was a small, rusted wrench.

The teen reached the bottom step with a loud exhale, eyes shutting in exhaustion. "Okay..." he panted. "I g-got...something? I got something." He murmured, holding up the little wrench for the older man to see.

Tony plucked it out of the teen's hands, inspecting it for a second. "Oh, I still have this thing? I meant to throw it out like two weeks ago. It's super old." He muttered.

Peter stared at him for a moment before dropping his head, his chin nearly hitting his chest. "Great. That's...t-that's great..." He said, Tony noting how out of breath the boy sounded. He quirked a brow at that. What, had he _run_ around the lab or something?

"You good, kid?" He asked, walking closer.

Peter waved him off, Tony halting in his stride. "Yeah...yeah, I'm good. Just..." He sucked in another shaky breath. "God, that was a l-lot of walking, y-you know...?" He tried to give a small smile, but it ended up resembling more of a grimace.

Tony noted that his face had grown another shade paler, if such a thing were even possible. Quickly trying to convince himself that it was merely a trick of the light, Tony glanced behind him at the doorway. "Kid, could you do me a favor and maybe not tell your dad that I let you fraternize with a wanted war criminal?"

Peter huffed. "Yeah, don't worry. He won't be hearing about this anytime soon."

"Excellent."

The teen took a step away from the stairs, but quickly stumbled. Tony moved forward, only to watch as Peter grasped onto the railing as tightly as possible, face scrunching up in pain for a second before he quickly righted himself.

"Kid..." The man said warily. "I really think you should sit down for a second." He slowly inched closer, hands creeping up as he watched the teen intently. Peter gave a small shake of his head as he opened his mouth, only for him to suck in another breath. "I'm...I-I'm fine, Mr. Stark. R-really." He murmured as he tried once again to step forward.

This time, he couldn't catch himself as his knees buckled all of a sudden, a small yelp falling from his lips as he toppled forward. "Hey!" Tony shouted, quickly shooting forward right as the teen collapsed against his chest. Strong arms wrapped around his too-tiny waist as the billionaire tried to steady him.

Peter grunted as he scrunched his eyes tightly. "D-damn it." He muttered, the words muffled against Tony's jacket. A..alright. So...so I'm a little s-south of _fine_ , but we're just g-gonna pretend that this d-didn't happen." He sighed, mostly to himself than to anyone else. He lifted his gaze and Tony was sure that if his face had any color to it whatsoever, he would be blushing. "S-sorry." He murmured, quickly looking away.

"God, kid." Tony muttered as he slowly began to lower the boy to the floor. Peter dropped to his knees, panting as if the small movement had zapped away all of his remaining strength as he flipped himself over so that he was sitting on his bottom, one of his arms propped straight against the ground while the other lay limp in his lap. His head was tilted back as he blinked rapidly.

Tony stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly parted in shock. The boy barely even seemed phased by the fact that he'd nearly face-planted on his frikkin floor! Quickly shaking his head, the man cautiously lowered himself down, crouching in front of the teen as he rested one arm on his knee. "What the hell was that, Peter?" He asked, his voice tense.

The kid stole a quick glance his way before turning away. "Nothing. N-nothing, I just got a little dizzy, is all. I...I might not have...gotten much sleep last night." He tried to chuckle, but the noise died in his throat as he caught sight of the older man's expression.

Tony was staring straight at him, not even trying to hide such a fact. His eyes were hard as he flickered around the teen's figure, seeming to drink in every detail before he turned away with an aggravated sigh. "God I hate it when she's right." He muttered to himself before turning back to Peter. "Have you eaten today?" He asked, though he was certain of the answer already.

Peter stared back at him, eyes wide as his mouth parted slightly, only for no words to come out. Tony huffed as he narrowed his eyes. "Yesterday?"

"I...umm..."

"The day before?" He sounded angry. Peter's fingers twitched.

"I think...I h-had an...apple?"

Tony shook his head. "Jesus _fucking_ Christ, kid." He growled. "Are you insane? I...I think you're starting to go insane. Cause only someone who's mentally _absent_ could do something so _monumentally_ stupid." He snapped.

Peter said nothing. Tony took it as an invitation to continue.

"Going three days without a proper meal is enough to worry even a _normal_ human. But you? With your freaky metabolism? It's downright deadly." He leaned closer. "Were you just gonna try and ignore all of this?" He asked, eyes narrowed. "Wait until you keeled over and couldn't get back up again? Cause judging from the look of you, it would have only taken a few more hours, at least." he growled.

Peter flinched back as he turned his head away, his lip quivering as he opened his mouth. No words came out. The teen squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to force the words to come out, but his tongue seemed to be tripping over itself.

Tony's hardened eyes remained on the teen's form, pausing as they stopped on the dark bruise, which looked even worse now that the teen's skin held almost no color. Instantly, the fire in his eyes died down as a sickening jolt of realization shot through his stomach, making bile rise up on his throat.

He swallowed and looked away, eyes lifting towards the ceiling for a minute before he gazed back down at the teen. "How'd you hurt your eye?" He asked, his tone dark and foreboding.

Peter glanced back up at him, eyes wary. He'd received that question more times than he could count that day. And with each question, he always had the same answer. It was like reflex. The same with all of his lies. Always at the tip of his tongue. Spoken cleanly and fluently. Perfectly crafted. Nobody could ever see through it.

So...why couldn't he speak?

He stared at the man as he tried to find the words, his fingers twitching once more. "I...I-I...was...w-was..." He cleared his throat, his hands shaking. "I was m-making...dinner-"

"The dinner you didn't eat." Tony muttered as he raised a brow.

"umm...and...I...I-I slipped on s-some water. H-it my head against t-the...the side of the...counter."

God, not even a four-year-old would have believed that.

Peter ducked his head as he waited for the older an to call him out on it, to chew him up and grind him into nothing for the lie.

The billionaire said nothing as he continued to stare at the boy, taking in yet another example of the kid's inability to lie to him. He honestly didn't know what he'd been expecting. It wasn't as if the teen was actually going to tell him what had really happened, not if it was what Tony assumed it was. He'd be lying if he said hearing the boy lie to him didn't make him just a little frustrated, but the small twinge in the back of his mind continued to remind him that this was what he'd have to expect from him.

At least until he started to earn his trust.

"Okay."

Peter snapped his eyes open and whipped his head up, which was a mistake as a wave of dizziness smashed into him. Tony seemed to notice this as he placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "If you say so, kid." The man continued, though it almost looked as if the words pained him.

Peter said nothing as he lowered his gaze. Tony stared down at him, biting his cheek in thought as he let out a small groan. This just wasn't his day, was it. He glanced over towards the door. First things first, he had to get some food into the baby idiot at his feet. The first thing that popped into his mind was the food court downstairs, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his head.

Considering how loopy and out of it the teen was starting to get, he knew the last thing they needed was to bring him somewhere loud and noisy with tons of different people and mingling smells. Even _he_ feared getting some sense of sensory overload in that god forsaken place, let alone a kid with literal super senses.

So, without the cafeteria, that only left one option. Tony couldn't help but grimace at the thought, but one last glance at the sad-looking mess of a teen at his feet was enough to have him suck it up. Besides, it wasn't like anybody would be up there anyway.

"Alright, kid. Let's go do something _smart_ for once and get some food in you."

Peter blinked up at him before biting his lip. "You don't h-"

"Kid, if you say ' _I don't have to_ ' one more time, I'm literally going to force-feed you baby food." He muttered, leaning closer. "And I'll make the airplane noises."

Peter's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

The man grinned. "I'll even have FRIDAY record it."

The teen stared at him, mouth agape for a moment before he finally relented with a sigh. "Can you stand?" The billionaire asked as he rose up to his feet. Peter blinked in thought before he tried to push himself up, only to wince as a horde of black dots lashed at the corners of his eyes.

"Yep, gonna take that as a hell no." Tony muttered as he grabbed Peter's arms, hauling the boy to his feet before wrapping a securing arm around his waist, making sure the teen didn't have a repeat act of falling on his face.

Peter tensed at the touch, but said nothing as Tony led him out of the lab and over towards the elevator. Even as they stepped inside and began their ascent, Tony didn't remove his arm. Peter still didn't say anything.

The teen stole a small glance up at the man, but noticed that his gaze was elsewhere. He lowered his head as he felt the strong, steadying grasp of the man's grip around him. He could feel the usual shiver of uncomfortableness running down his spine at the touch, but to the teen's surprise, he didn't pull away.

Peter had grown used to the fact that any and all forms of physical contact were red flags for him. He knew this, his friends knew this. At most, he'd get a high-five from Ned or a small pat from MJ. On really bad days, he'd even go as far as to accept hugs from certain _trusted_ people. Of course, any forms of contact were brief and brisk. He just _could not_ handle being touched for long periods of time.

Which made the fact that he hadn't yet pulled away all the more shocking.

Peter glanced down at his slightly shaking hands and shut his eyes, surmising it all to the fact that he was just too exhausted to do anything about it. Yeah _. That had to be it._

Unbeknownst to him, Tony was having similar feelings as he steeled his gaze to anywhere but the kid in his grasp. Unlike Peter, he had much more practice in masking his uncomfortableness. After all, physical contact wasn't really his cup of tea either. Apart from Rhodey, Pepper and the occasional Happy, most people weren't allowed to get _close_ enough to touch him, let alone they actually _do_ it.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he stole a small glance to the teen below him, Peter's eyes trailing along the floor. The billionaire turned away again, slightly shifting his hold on the kid. This didn't mean anything. This was only because the moron was too out of it to hold himself up. That was it. _That had to be it._

They still said nothing.

After another moment, the elevator opened up onto the penthouse floor. Peter cracked open his eyes slightly, gasping as he took in the sight before him.

"Holy _shit._ "

"Language."

"Heh...you sound like Natasha."

"Don't ever insult me like that again."

Peter smiled as Tony rolled his eyes, the teen barely able to look away from the room.

The elevator opened up at the back of the room, revealing a huge room that seemed to be split into two main parts. One one side, you had what appeared to be a large living room, complete with a large couch and a few chairs situated to face the huge TV that sat on the wall. Across from the living room sat a kitchen that looked like it belonged in a cooking magazine, the models and appliances all looking sleek and brand new.

Pressing one hand against the wall for support, Peter stepped away from the billionaire as he moved deeper into the room, head swiveling to take in all the sights.

As he backed away from the elevator, Peter noticed that the wall continued up before tapering off onto another second level, similar to how the lab was structured, resembling a balcony of sorts. Off to the side, near the many couches, there was a large, spiral staircase with individual hovering glass steps that led up to the higher level. However, the stairs also led _down_ which led him to presume there was another level just underneath them.

For a moment, Peter wondered why Tony needed such a lavish and _large_ penthouse considering it was just him living here. After all, this place seemed to be able to fit a small army.

It was then that the teen remembered that it hadn't used to be _just_ him, his brows furrowing slightly in realization.

"Hey, kid."

Peter turned, noticing that Tony was now in the kitchen, fiddling with something in one of the many cabinets. "Get over here before you keel over, would ya'?"

A few _not-well-hidden_ stumbles later and Peter found himself clambering onto a stool set up against the dining bar along one of the kitchen counters. The kid folded his arms on the surface of the table and rested his head, eyes lazily following Tony around the kitchen.

Peter noted how the billionaire almost seemed... _lost_ in the kitchen, as if he'd never set foot in the room before. Considering this was the man who the teen was relying on to feed him, it probably wasn't that good of a sign.

Before he could start to worry, however, Tony was glancing back at him. "Alright, kid. Do me a favor and don't die for like, the next twenty minutes or something." He paused. "Actually," Turning back around, he reached into the fridge. Pulling out a can of soda, the man placed it on the counter in front of the boy's face. "Drink this. No wait," He turned back around. Suddenly an identical can was being placed right next to the first one. "Drink both of these."

Peter glanced up at him. "Umm..."

"No talking. Chugging."

Peter blinked at the can before his lips were curling into a grin.

"What?" Tony asked, cocking a brow.

The teen shook his head. "No, nothing. It's just...I found the next title for your autobiography."

Tony stared at him before slapping him with the dish towel, Peter ducking under the rag. "Smart-ass." The billionaire muttered with a smirk.

Peter smiled before turning back down to stare at the sodas. Without another word, he popped the tab on the first one and tipped the lip of the can back towards his mouth. The fizzy liquid swished around his tongue before falling down his throat. The frothing bubbles made it hard to chug per say, but he got it down fairly easily. The next can took him a bit longer to finish, but he did. Setting the empty can down next to the first, the boy let out a small sigh and rested his head back down on his arms.

The teen watched as Tony milled about the kitchen, fiddling with the stove as a large pot sat on one of the burners. Cursing something under his breath, the man finally seemed content as he moved away, digging around in the fridge for a moment before he pulled out some vegetables and a box of broth.

Peter let his eyes flutter shut as the man worked. He didn't sleep. But this just seemed better. Tony obviously noted the teen's exhaustion, for he said nothing as the kid rested, simply content to work in the silence.

In fact, it wasn't until at least ten or fifteen minutes had passed before the billionaire spoke up once more.

"Mkay, kid. Spill." Peter's eyes opened once more as the man continued. "I've known you for nearly two months now and something like this has never happened before. I know you're a pretty good liar when you want to be but I don't think even _you_ could have hidden the fact that you're, oh...I don't know, casually _starving_ in my presence." He threw the teen a disapproving look as he folded his arms. "Like...what the hell?"

Peter lifted his head and glanced down at his hands, seeming to find his fingers incredibly interesting in that moment as he traced them along the counter. "My friend, Ned. He's been sick for the past couple days. Usually, he forces me to eat something. A sandwich he packed for me. An apple or two. Something like that. He knows I don't eat all that much at home so he-"

The teen's words quickly died in his mouth as his eyes widened slightly, a panicked look washing over his face for a moment before it was replaced with a look of apprehension. Tony narrowed his eyes as he leaned against the counter. "Okay...follow-up question: Why don't you eat at home?"

Peter stared at the man for a moment, eyes flickering over the features of his face before he turned away, hands wringing together. "Umm...I...I usually don't have time to." He finally murmured softly. "With homework, chores and well...spider-man- _ing_...I'm usually pretty busy. Most days, I barely have time to finish all my work before my father gets home, and once he does, I have to get started on dinner. And it's not like I can actually sit with them while they're eating," He muttered, rolling his eyes. "so I usually go and finish my homework upstairs and then head out on patrol." He explained, Tony staring at him intently as he did so.

"I guess I just forget sometimes."

It wasn't a total lie. He _did_ just forget to eat sometimes. Besides, it not like Mr. Stark had to know his father was a psycho control freak who seemed to make it his goal to torture and manipulate every aspect of his son's life.

Nobody needed to know that.

Tony continued to stare for a moment longer before he turned away, the look in his eyes lingering with Peter for a moment before it too vanished. The older man moved back over to the pot, which was boiling now with whatever liquid was being held inside. "Uh-huh...and uh...why are _you_ the one cooking anyway?" Tony asked. The teen watched as the man grabbed an onion sitting off to the side. He peeled it before grabbing the knife. He only made a few slices in the vegetable before pausing, deciding to just dump the entire onion into the pot.

...okay?

He reached over and picked up a carrot, swinging it around in the air as he spoke. "Doesn't that seem like something your mom would be doing?" He asked absentmindedly as he began to chop the vegetable into small, uneven slices.

Peter barely registered the question as he watched the boiling pit, which was threatening to overflow. "Yeah, no. I don't think she's gonna be cooking me meals anytime soon." He muttered before raising his hand. "Umm...do you think you should...?" He murmured, gesturing towards the pot as he winced watching it begin to splash out around the rim.

Tony continued on as if he hadn't heard him. "How come?" He asked, glaring down at the carrot pieces before haphazardly tossing them into the pot.

Peter grimaced as the already frothing pot got even angrier. The word were out of his mouth before he could even understand what the question was. "Kinda hard to cook pasta when you're six feet under. You get dirt in the spaghetti sauce."

The room instantly seemed to freeze, the atmosphere quickly becoming heavy and suffocating. Nobody even moved as the pot began to boil over. Tony, whose back was still to the teen, shut his eyes tightly, mouthing a _'fuck me'_ before slowly turning around.

Peter seemed just as surprised as him, as if he hadn't expected the words to fall out of his mouth. His eyes were wide and his posture was as rigid as a board. He blinked rapidly before his wide eyes met Tony's. "S-sorry...I...I-I...sorry, that's was...I mean...I-I didn't...didn't mean to...t-to..."

"Kid, hey." Tony cut him off, lifting his hands. "Why are _you_ apologizing? _I'm_ the asshole here." He scoffed, though there was very little humor behind it. What made things worse was that Tony already knew that. He knew Peter's mother was...gone. That was one of the first things that'd he'd discovered when he'd researched the teen all those months ago.

 _Just can't stop spewing out the garbage huh, Stark? Well, points for mentioning the dead mother. What now? Gonna bring in the douchebag dad? Maybe a school bully? Or, better yet! Why don't you just slug the kid in the face. Yeah! That's it, you idiot._

Peter seemed to be in just as much, if not, even _more_ turmoil than Tony as he stared down at his hands. "Sorry..." He said once more. "Just used to...to ignoring her, I guess." He said softly.

Tony furrowed his brow at that. "What do you mean?" He asked, despite his better judgement. He didn't really trust his mouth at the moment.

Peter glanced at him for a moment before staring back down at his hands. "Dad doesn't like it when I walk about her." He whispered. "He gets mad. Like...like really mad."

The man's face twitched angrily at that, but he held his tongue, knowing whatever he said on the matter probably wouldn't do any good. In fact, it probably would have been best if he stopped talking altogether and just finished whatever disaster he was currently cooking. Stuff like this...this was _all_ feelings. Emotions, turmoil, pain...not really his thing. He usually tried to stay away from topics such as these. For when it came to him, he had the delicacy of a bull in a china shop.

A robot bull.

With lasers.

And rockets.

On steroids.

After all, he wasn't really the best when it came to retraining strong emotions. Siberia was a prime example of him losing control and he _definitely_ wasn't about to risk that again. Or worse, making Peter risk that. Having only caught a few glimpses of the teen's true anger, he hated to wonder what it would be like if the teen ever _did_ lose control like _he_ had.

Still, he couldn't help but take in the sight of Peter's face. He knew that face. He recognized that face. it was identical to the one that had plagued his face after...after...

He'd tried to hold it in too. But nobody ever told him that avoiding the pain was just as torturous as confronting it. He glanced back at Peter. He couldn't force the kid to talk. Heaven knew dozens of people had tried that with him and all it'd done was make him more and more reclusive. He'd tried to refuse. But at every corner, it seemed as if there had been someone trying to pry the truth out of him. As if they were taking away his right to choose whether or not to talk through his pain.

No...he couldn't force Peter to speak. But that didn't mean he couldn't give him what he'd never had: the right to choose.

"Do...do you _want..._ to talk about her?" His hesitations were clear in his voice.

Peter narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. "No." He growled, his face morphing slightly into an unreadable expression. "I...I don't know. She..." It was obvious he'd never done something like this before. He was flustered. But he wasn't tripping over his words, so Tony assumed he was okay.

Well...as okay as one could be when talking about...you know...

The teen let out a small sigh. "She was...I was only four when she died so...I...I-I..."

"What happened?" The billionaire asked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. His eyes widened as his brain began to catch up to his big mouth. _Fucking goddamn it, man! Like, come on!_ Peter stared at him as he tried to backtrack, tripping over his own feet as he did so. "You know what? Never mind. Forget I even said anything, kid. I'm just-"

"No."

He looked up.

Peter's face was tight as he stared at his hands, as if he couldn't pull his gaze away from them. "No...it's okay. I..." He let out a small humorless laugh. "It's so stupid. I was like, only a toddler when it happened, but I still remember it so well, you know?"

He trailed off for a moment, not saying anything. For a second, Tony wondered if maybe he'd changed his mind, but after another second, he opened his mouth.

"It was raining outside. Thundering. I didn't like it. It was loud." His words were clipped. His voice tight. But he didn't stop. Tony didn't say anything. Peter continued.

"She came into my room. I knew something was wrong cause...cause she was scared." He glanced back up. "I didn't like that either. She...she pulled me from the bed and took me downstairs." He gripped his hands together tightly. "That's when I started to hear the gunshots."

"Gunshots?" Tony echoed, his voice low.

Peter barely gave a nod. "They...they sounded like thunder. The...t-the thundering. It...i...it confused me. And it was loud. Like...i couldn't...it was t-too loud and...I-I..." He grit his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut, his shaking hands digging into his jeans as the distant sound of thundering began to fill his ears. But they were sharp. The noises. It was sharp. And loud. Too sharp to be thunder. God he...he couldn't do this. It was too loud and he couldn't-

He blinked open his eyes as he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder, quickly dragging him back to reality. He glanced up and noticed Tony was now leaning closer, brow furrowed in an expression Peter couldn't really identify. But he didn't care. The noise, whatever that had been, it was gone again.

The billionaire stared down at him. "You don't have to keep going if-"

"No." Peter shook his head, shutting his eyes for a brief moment once again. "I...I have to do this. I just...I..." Tony nodded, clearly understanding as he took another step back.

Peter sucked in a deep breath as he stared back down at his hands, tracing each line as he continued, the motion seeming to calm him. "She...she hid me in a closet and closed the door. There were a lot of gunshots after that."

Tony raised a brow. "Where was your dad?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know. It was just me and my mom in the house at the time. I think he was at the office when it happened. Anyway, when everything got quiet, I went to check what was happening. I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to stay in the closet, stay hidden, but...but I was scared and I wanted to...to see her, you know?" He asked, raising his head. He didn't wait for a reply.

"I got out. I...I went to check...the...the living room and..." He lifted his hands slightly. "and...that was it." He murmured, dropping his hands back down into his lap. A small smile crept onto his face, but Tony couldn't help but feel a little uneasy at the sight. "It's funny, really." Peter chuckled. "I thought I'd only lost one parent in the break in. But, turns out my dad died that night, too." He sighed. "At least a part of him did."

He turned away as the pair lapsed into silence. The only sound was the frothing of the pot and the hiss of the liquid reaching the burner underneath. Tony said nothing as he turned away. What was he _supposed_ to say anyway? What could he possibly say that hadn't already been said? It wasn't like it would change anything.

This wasn't his thing. Comfort, words of encouragement. But he wondered if such things would really be of much help in that moment. He'd relieved plenty of kind words when his parents had died and it had done nothing to ease the pain. In fact, he remembered moments where such words had made him mad. It wasn't _their_ tragedy. What right did they have to be sorry? Their words meant nothing. Nothing but hollow apologies and cold comfort.

He glanced over at Peter, who continued to stare down at his lap. Tony remembered all those people. He hated them. Hated how shallow they all were. Hated how they tried to beat around the bush and stepped on eggshells around him. Like he was this fragile thing that deserved their pity.

He stared at the teenager across from him. Peter didn't need that. He didn't deserve those empty words.

So, as he moved the pot off the burner, he said the first thing that popped into his mind, something he'd secretly wished someone would have said to him.

"Yeah, that shit sucks, doesn't it?" Cause it did. And it had.

Peter lifted his head and cocked a brow. "That's... _one_ way to put it." He muttered, though he didn't seem too bothered by the words. A little surprised, maybe, but not bothered. In fact, he almost looked... _amused._

The billionaire leaned his elbow against the counter, gazing back at the teen. "Well, I can honestly say I know how that feels, kid." He muttered. "My parents died when I was only a few years older than you, so I guess it was a little easier on me." He sighed, Peter staring back at him with those large, longing eyes of him. Those eyes that made Tony want to talk and keep talking until he finally said something that made him worthy of the praise gleaming in those hazel pools.

"Still...it's hard when you're alone."

Peter blinked at him before letting out a small breath, turning his gaze away. "Yeah...I know how that feels, too." He whispered.

"Well you shouldn't." The boy turned back towards the man at the tone of his voice. There was something there. Something he hadn't heard before. It wasn't pity. He knew what pity sounded like. He hated the sound. No, this...this was almost like... _understanding_. Hmm...it sounded... _strange_. Not bad, just...strange. _Uncommon_.

"So for that...I'm sorry." Tony finished, his eyes reflecting something Peter rarely saw in them. A rawness the teen was certain the older man often tried to cover up. He knew how that felt too.

The billionaire quickly seemed to notice his slip, for he blinked and it was gone. He let out a small cough against the back of his hand as he pushed off the counter, tuning away from the boy as he moved back over towards the pot. "Jeez..." He muttered as he stared at the concoction.

"Well, not gonna lie, kid. I'm only like, sixty percent sure this is edible." He scoffed as he began to fill a small bowl with the liquid. "Eh... make it forty" He winced as he stole another glance at the liquid. "But you don't have that many options. I can't just keep loading you up with soda so here you go." He grimaced as he placed the bowl down in front of the teen.

The broth was a dark yellow with swirls of brown mingled in throughout. The teen glanced back up, giving the man a small smile. "Trust me, Mr. Stark, I've had worse."

Tony smirked. "I doubt it, kid."

Peter leaned forward, cocking a brow. "Do you know what's in the dumpsters behind those 24 hour buffet places? Cause I do."

The man stared at him in shock for a moment before an involuntary shudder racked his body. Peter nodded. "Yeah, exactly." He chuckled as he grabbed the spoon next to the bowl and took a sip of the soup.

He didn't want to say it was... _bad._ More like his tongue refused to accept that it was even touching such a thing - cause it definitely wasn't _food_. So...pretty bad. It tasted a little like he'd just juiced an onion of whatever juice it had inside, dumped in an entire container of salt and then mixed the entire thing up in a toilet bowl...while on fire.

Tony couldn't help the smile that formed on his face at the teen's expression. "Still think you've had worse?"

Peter swallowed the liquid that had been in his mouth with a small groan before giving a small shrug of his shoulder. "Well I mean, I didn't have to fight with a raccoon over this so...silver linings."

The man chuckled. "It's fine, kid. I know it has to be terrible." He muttered as he grabbed a spoon from the sink and dipped it into the bowl. He'd barely even allowed the liquid to touch his tongue before he was spitting into the sink, Peter flinching back with a laugh. "God!" Tony breathed. "Forget the starvation. This right here is what's gonna do you in." He scoffed, Peter snickering behind his hand. "Actually, I think the starvation is more humane." The billionaire grimaced.

Peter shrugged his shoulder as Tony continued to shiver at the violation of his tastebuds. "You know, it would probably be a lot better if you counter the saltiness with a little pinch of sugar and then maybe add a bit of lemon juice to counter the onion taste." He explained, before pausing. "Like...like a _lot_ of lemon juice. Like... _a lot a lot_ of lemon juice."

"Okay, okay, I get it." Tony scoffed as Peter grinned. "How come you know so much about cooking anyway?" The man asked as he folded his arms.

Peter waved one hand dismissively. "I cool every day for a house of six people." He muttered. "I kinda had to learn it fast."

"Right." Tony uttered.

Peter glanced down at the... _soup?_ before him, grimacing as a bubble emerged in the thick liquid before popping. "Umm...Mr. Stark? I don't mean to sound rude or ungrateful or anything, but umm...do you think maybe we can make something else?" He asked with a pained look on his face. It was probably from the fact that he was like, ninety percent sure the soup had just growled at him.

The man nodded. "Sure, but whatever else I make probably isn't gonna turn out much better than that." He pointed with a disgusted look towards the soup.

Peter smiled. "I know. That's why I said _'we'"._

Tony cocked a brow as he stared at the teen, though he couldn't help the small smile that fell onto his face. Peter hopped down from the stool, content with the fact that he didn't sway. "How's breakfast for dinner sound?"

The billionaire glanced back over towards the growling soup. "Better than death." He muttered. "Fire away, kid." He called as Peter began to make his way over towards the fridge.

As he watched the teen grab a carton and place it on the counter, he couldn't help the small nagging feeling that had been burning in his chest ever since Peter had revealed what he had. He stared at the boy for a moment in deliberation, wondering whether or not it was actually a good idea before he decided it couldn't hurt.

Walking forward, the man placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, the boy gazing up with a questioning look. He stared down for a second before speaking. "I'm sorry about your mom, Peter." The words were soft, quiet. But both Tony and Peter could feel the gravity of them.

The teen searched the older man's face for a moment before he took a small breath. "I'm sorry about your parents."

Tony's fingers twitched slightly at that, but for some reason, the words he'd heard millions of times seemed...different. As if they held a whole new meaning just by having this one teenager speak them. Maybe it was how he said it. How they'd both said it.

No pity. Just understanding.

The billionaire nodded.

"I'm sorry for feeding you poison."

Peter couldn't stop the laugh from falling from his lips. "I don't think even poison tastes that much like onions."

* * *

 **Wednesday - March 30, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Penthouse**

 **06:24 p.m.**

"Okay, it's official. This is impossible." Tony muttered as he tried to fold over his omelet. The edges simply cracked as the egg began to tear and break, bits and pieces of it sticking to the pan. "I-" He started, only to pause as he glanced over at Peter. The teen folded his omelet over perfectly, the edges a pristine golden brown as he slid the entire thing effortlessly off the pan and onto the plate beside him.

Tony narrowed his eyes and pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "There's a lot to not like about you, Mr. Parker."

Peter threw him a cheeky grin as he placed the skillet into the pan. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're doing great...if you're going for scrambled eggs." He chuckled with a small sympathetic smile.

Tony glared back at the pan. "Questa è una cazzo di cazzata." He muttered under his breath.*

Peter scrunched his nose. "Stop cursing." He scolded, placing his hands on his hips. Tony quirked a brow. "How do you know I'm cursing? You don't even _know_ Italian!"

The teen sniffed. "Context clues." He teased, smile growing as Tony's grumbling raised in volume.

Peter placed the plated omelet down onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, which already held an assortment of different dishes, ranging from burnt bacon to burnt toast to burnt...oatmeal. Peter couldn't tell.

Well...he was getting... _better._

Tony haphazardly pushed out the contents of the pan out onto the plate next to him. "There, that's as good as it's getting." He muttered as he folded his arms. Peter giggled as he grabbed the plate and placed it next to his. "Better than the last batch." He called, Tony letting out a small hum.

The pair moved over towards the island as they stared at the multiple plates of food. "We don't have to eat _all_ of this, do we?" The teen asked. Tony shook his head. "Nah, we'll just force Happy to eat it or something."

"Cool."

The billionaire watched as Peter moved back over towards the counter, where a freshly mixed bowl of uncooked pancake batter sat. The man watched with slightly furrowed brow as the kid gave the bowl a slight stir, a nagging topic hanging in the back of his mind. He knew it wasn't gonna go away until he addressed it.

"Kid?"

Peter turned towards him. Tony moved closer. "I don't want this happening again." He sighed, continuing as Peter gave him a confused look. "As in, I don't want you showing up here hungry anymore alright. I can't have you hiding something like that from me."

Peter lowered his gaze. "Mr. St-"

"Ah, ah, ah! Let me finish" He interrupted, the teen falling silent. "I can't have you going hungry when I'm _literally_ the most equipped person to help you with that." He scoffed as he tossed his hands into the air exasperatedly.

He leaned closer and placed his hands onto the teen's shoulders, Peter tensing for a second before a small laugh fell from his lips as Tony gently shook the boy back and forth. "Listen to me, tiny human. If you're hungry, I _need_ you to tell me, alright?" He quirked a brow. "Cause if Pepper finds you passed out on my lab floor, she's gonna make me eat more Devil Soup, mkay? And I'm gonna tell you, kid. I don't think my heart can take any more of that."

The teen let out a small laugh before Tony gave his shoulder a small squeeze. "Do you think you can do that, kid?" He asked, the humor leaving his face, quickly being replaced with a concerned frown. Peter stared at him for a moment, glancing down at the floor in thought before he stared back up at the billionaire. He felt his fingers twitching, but ignored them. Instead, he gave a small smile as he nodded his head.

The man nodded his head as he patted the teen's shoulder. "Good deal, Baby Genius." He called as he moved away, Peter giving a small groan. "That's sticking now, huh? Great..."

Tony threw a smirk his way, moving over towards the bowl of cake batter. "How many more of these do I have to screw up until we're done?" He muttered as he picked up the bowl of batter.

Peter giggled. "You're not _that_ bad. Besides, we only have a few more. I'm not giving up until you've at least tried your hand at each of these. From what you told me, you only ever _once_ tried to make an omelet."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it was horrible." He muttered as he popped the batter-covered wooden spoon into his mouth. "This, however, is not. Seriously, I know I shouldn't be eating this but it's like the best thing I've ever tasted in my life." He said as Peter gave his own eye roll.

"Welp, I'm thinking a breakfast sandwich might be a bit above your level right now."

"Pshh...thanks."

Peter scrunched his nose. "Don't pretend that it isn't. We both know it's true and- _would you stop eating the batter?!_ That's bad for you! It's not even cooked!"

Tony glared at him. "Fottiti, questa è l'unica cosa buona della mia vita in questo momento."*

The teen pouted right back. "Stop cursing! My baby ears are burning." He moaned overdramatically while Tony rolled his eyes. "Please, this coming from the kid that spend like, an hour with a wanted assassin."

Peter placed his hands on his hips. "That's not going away anytime soon, huh?"

Tony smirked at him as Peter sighed. "Whatever. Anyway, since you're kinda already there - and it'll keep you away from the uncooked batter - we could at least try some scrambled eggs. They should be easy for you. They require no finesse."

The billionaire threw him a look. "Thanks." He deadpanned. Peter giving him an apologetic smile. "You know what I mean. Can you pass me the pepper?"

"Pepe, kid. Pepe." Tony corrected as he handed the teen the shaker. He'd decided around an hour ago that if Peter was gonna make him look like a fool when it came to this, then he was gonna relish in hearing the boy _sound_ like a fool. So, long story short, Peter was now learning _two_ new languages.

Peter nodded. "Right, like the skunk."

"What now?"

The kid turned to look at him as he shrugged. "Pepé Le Pew? You know, Looney Tunes? Bugs Bunny. Daffy Duck."

Tony gave him an odd stare. "Are these _words_ coming out of your mouth right now?"

"Haven't you ever watched Looney Tunes?" Peter asked with an incredulous stare.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cause I look like the kind of guy that watches cartoons." He muttered.

Peter shrugged his shoulders as he lowered his head. "Well you're Italian and you can't cook for shit so I don't know what to think." He murmured under his breath, puffing his cheeks slightly as Tony stared at him with an unreadable expression.

Suddenly, Peter found himself letting out a loud shout of shock as a handful of cold, pancake batter was being shoved into his face. He sputtered as he wiped the thick, sticky substance away from his eyes. He whirled around to stare at Tony, who didn't look the _least_ bit regretful.

"HEY!" Peter shouted, forgetting for a second who he was talking to. Tony didn't seem to care at all as his face held the barest hints of a smirk. "What?"

The teen opened his mouth, only to pause as he caught sight of something past the kitchen. The billionaire seemed to notice the teen's shift, for he turned around as well, eyes widening at the sight.

Pepper, Rhodey, Happy _and_ Natasha were all sitting at the dining bar, identical smirks adorning each of their faces. Happy and Rhodey both had their phones out as Nat gave a small wave. "What are you two boys up to?" She called innocently.

Rhodey rested his cheek on his fist. "Gotta say, Tones. I'm pretty pleased. Now I know what to get you for Christmas this year. A nice pretty apron." He chuckled.

Pepper chuckled as Happy leaned closer. "Make sure it's Iron Man themed."

"Or else he won't wear it." Natasha added.

Peter tried to hide his grin as he glanced back up at Tony, who had yet to say anything, his face blank. Finally, the man seemed to snap out of his stupor as he clicked his lips together, casually wiping a large slab of batter off of Peter's cheek before hurling it towards Rhodey and Happy, the two men ducking underneath the projectile as Peter burst out laughing.

"Pete, you know what I said before about all this food?"

"Y-yeah..." The teen breathed through his laughs.

"Scratch that. They're _all_ eating this shit now."

The four intruders in the room seemed to pale at that. Tony glanced over at Peter as the kid continued to giggle, the billionaire poking the teen in the cheek.

"You got something on your face."

* * *

 _5) I Will Never Eat Without Permission . . . . At Home_

* * *

 ***** _This is fucking bullshit._

 ***** _Fuck you, this is the only good thing going on in my life right now._

 **Fun Fact: Tony Stark is speculated to be part Italian, at least on his mother's side. His mother's maiden name, Carbonell, is likely a shortened or Americanized version of the common Italian surname Carbonelli or Carbonello. For some reason, the idea of Tony mostly using his Italian just as a means to curse is hilarious to me. So I decided to add it in as another little bond between him and Peter. So, just as Natasha is teaching him Russian, Tony teaches him a little Italian on the side.**

 **Welp, hope you all enjoyed that fluffy goodness that was this chapter. Just had to ride out some spiky angst thorns to get there, but you made it eventually!**

 **Also, I've been getting some private messages from readers asking if whether or not their constant commenting is somehow annoying and I would just like to put this out there just in case any of you are having similar doubts...ahem...**

 **DON'T STOP COMMENTING MY LOVELIES!**

 **Seriously, though. I rate how well a certain chapter was received based on how many of my readers felt inclined to comment, you know to take time out of their actual day to do something they** _so_ **don't have to do and if makes me feel so great to see that a chapter got a lot of comments. I take the time to read all of them so don't think I don't appreciate them, cause I most certainly do!**

 **I feel like there was something else I wanted to tell you guys, I just can't figure it out right now...**

 **Oh well, thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: _CupcakeCookie21, Maddy Love Castiel, PrincesNaina, king andos, AltoOwl, justwannawritesanonymous, BurningRosethorn, manya20, K4zuk1, MaraudersandHarry, 1-800fangirl, Ljo998, BabyPinkPuppy, CharHarvey, ZEMD06; Aelo1669, FantasyGirl1329, YamadaNisako, nelliej2324, The Great Katabawa, ParkerAlexis88, XxlaurynxX, nananatz_**

 **Reviews:**

 **FanficFan920: Guess you'll just have to wait and see ;)**

 **Luckias:** **Well here's a nice little end to your cliffhanger so you can sleep easy now. Man, I will always accept your cookies. Now shower me. Shower me in you pastry goodness. Tough break dude, hopefully by the time this chapter is ut the movie will be ready and waiting for you on the other side. Anyway, you definitely have to see it. It was quite a refreshing movie after the sobfest that was fucking Infinity War. Hate that goddamn movie for making me feel things I don't want to feel! Dude, your comments could never be a problem for me. I base how well my stories are rating by how often my readers feel inclined to comment so don't be shy.**

 **HeCallsMeBeloved: *Begins to do the Robot-Caveman dance from that one Spongebob BC episode* *quickly stops and sits when realizes nobody knows what you're talking about***

 **PrincessNaina: We got tears! I repeat! We got tears! Let me just go ahead and mark down what chapter this took place in and...yep. Honey, you better strap in cause if you think that's as sad as we're going in this story you are in for a very watery ride!**

 **Seawell:** ***awkwardly pats back when hug lasts too long* Still feels good! Yep, I'm basically counting down the days I have left before I have to enter back into the hellscape that is high school. Conversing with a bunch of superficial, self-centered whiny brats who never got taught the lesson that their opinions don't matter all that much and that they aren't as special as their parents made them out to be. God, don't you just love it? And people wonder why my stories are so sad and angsty. I'm a teenage girl! Angst is basically what I drink on a daily basis! JK, my sister's like that though and I want to murder her more times than I can count...maybe** ** _that's_ why my stories are so dark...hmm...  
** **Anwhoo! I know I can count on my readers! I lone all'yall. Whoops, sounded too much like I'm from Florida there! Sorry! Now I gotta go! There's an alligator in my pool and then I have to go with my family to Disney World cause apparently that's all there is in Florida. Alligators wearing Mickey Hats.  
** **That lowkey sounds awesome...**

 **ParadoxicOrder8:** **Dude, I can't even drive yet XD**

 **Phoenixhp5:** **Gracias, amigo. I'm definitely gonna take my time with this story, but I'm a pretty impatient person so I at least try and to extent the courtesy of updating regularly cause that's what I'd want someone welse to do for me. Plus, I gotta do something when I'm daydreaming in class. Might as well be planning for the next chapter XD**

 **Toni42:** **Nah, man. I with writing was my whole life. I would be so happy if it was. MJ and Flash will be getting more spotlight moments as well as Ned. Gotta love Ned. The Rogues will be getting the same treatment end woof! Tension? Boy, you haven't seen anything yet!**

 **Qwertywerido: Woof, tell your friend I'm sorry**

 **RosettaQueen:** **Well, ya gotta give the kid some credit here. Just depends on who he's lying to. I;ll be sure to highlight those distinctions more as the story progresses.**

 **LOST in the supermarket:** **New update man! Lengthy and wordy and stupidly long! Just as you all like them...i guess XD**

 **LoonyLovegood1981:** **You're good, man. I've just gotten some private comments saying how they hate the format of this story and all that whiny bullshit from people who definitely couldn't do better if their grammar in those messages was any indication XD ANywhoo...just glad you're not one of those assholes.**

 **AltoOwl: Honey, conflict is my middle name.**

 **momocandy:** **How...DARE you not leave a review?! I specifically state that any and all people who have the GALL to read my story must post a comment with NO HATE within the first five minutes of clicking! I accept NO FLAMES! If you con't like don't read! Nobody deserves criticism! It is hatred and pure jealousy and could never do an author actual good like telling them their weak points in writing and giving them a good basis on where they can improve and better their skills! Preposterous! And how can you have the audacity to read this story in your own work place, taking the time to relax and honor me by using your break time to read my story! Where do you get the nerve?! And you bet your ass you follow this golden shit to the end of the line! But it's not like I need you or whatever! It's not like the support and love from readers such as yourself actually motivates me to continue writing for such fans and lovelies and other wonderful people like you! You're insane if you think otherwise! :(**

 **Agent blue rose:** **Ahh...Natasha. Everyone's favorite boss ass bitch**

 **xXCinderzXx: Hola! Gotta love those who prioritize reading over actual human needs! Guess you'll have to wait and see on who this mystery character is. But I'll give you a hint...it's neither of those XD sorry!**


	12. The Criminal Code

**Chapter 12: The Criminal Code**

* * *

 **Thursday - March 31, 2016**

 **Gramercy, NYC**

 **DayBreak Cafe and Bakery**

 **08:54 a.m.**

" _Catherine With A 'C'!_ Your order is ready!"

Piercing blue eyes flicked upwards to gaze at the barista currently holding up a styrofoam cup and a small brown bag, a bored expression glazing her face as she passed the items to the blonde woman approaching the counter.

His leg bounced rhythmically as he turned away, his thumbs tapping against the sides of his cup in a steady, calming manner. _Tap, tap, tap, tap..._

The soft noise was enough to keep him focused, which was difficult when taking into consideration the environment around him. The loud hissing of the espresso machines in the background mingling with the beeping of machines he'd never seen before, nor knew what they were for. The overpowering scent of coffee, sugar and milk wafting through the air, seeming to assault his senses. The _unbelievably_ loud drones of the conversations going on around him, voices twisting around each other as people fought to be heard over each other by constantly growing louder and louder. The noise grated through his head, piercing his skull painfully as it seemed to bare down on him from all angles in an overpowering wave of shrill voices, loud hisses and nauseatingly sweet scents.

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap..._

Taking a deep breath, Steve shut his eyes and focused on the feel of the cup underneath his fingers, the rough texture rubbing up against his skin. Slowly, the wave began to settle as the waters grew calm once more, the noise eventually settling into a steady drone in the background.

His leg bounced rhythmically underneath the table while the soft sound of his thumbs tapping against he sides of his styrofoam cup were enough to distract him from the sound of people talking and cars honking outside. The scent of coffee and warm muffins was nearly overpowering in the building, though the many people occupying the space didn't help aid the already-cramped feeling.

Even when he'd been younger, as in _pre-serum_ young, he'd never been comfortable surrounded by crowds of people. Something about the cramped feeling of being clustered and crowded made his skin crawl in a manner he'd often forget. Then again, he'd forgotten how a lot of things felt after the serum. So he supposed it was somewhat comforting to know that there were still some things that hadn't changed.

Of course, it just happened to be one of the things that made him uncomfortable...

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap..._

Quickly allowing the soft noise to drag him back into the present, Steve narrowed his eyes as he quickly refocused. Taking a second to adjust the sunglasses on his face, his fingers brushed up against the baseball cap atop his head as he reached for the earpiece.

His voice was quiet and barely detectable to anyone around him, though he was sure he wouldn't have been heard by anyone even if he'd been speaking at a normal volume given how loud it was in the cafe.

"Any sign of the target?"

He had a job to do, after all.

He could practically feel the vibrations of the earpiece rattling against this skin as a voice broke through the fuzz. " _Negative so far."_

Making sure to keep his head low, Steve twisted around slightly in his seat, making out a slim figure standing near the back of the shop. She had a jacket on with the hood up, shrouding her face in shadow save for the slight gleam of her sunglasses glinting against the bright lights of the cafe. Keeping her gaze upwards as she pretended to silently read the menus up above the baristas' heads, Natasha reached a hand upwards to seemingly brush a stray strand of hair out of her face, her fingers pressing against the earpiece as she did so. " _But it's still early."_ She said softly.

" _Nothing from up here, either."_ Sam's voice cut through the feed, Steve's gaze instinctively lifting towards the ceiling, where the man was currently keeping watch from above. The super soldier narrowed his eyes. He'd expected them to show by now.

 _Tap, tap, tap..._

" _Okay, now...just how sure are we that they're actually gonna show?"_

Steve sighed as his gaze traveled to the other end of the store, where a man in a dark jacket and a similar baseball cap to his sat by the window, fiddling with a packet of sugar while a bored expression marred his features. Clint adjusted his hat as his hand shifted down to tap the earpiece. " _I mean, I can't be the only one who's wondering whether or not this is a lost cause."_

Natasha rolled her eyes from her position. " _No, but now_ I'm _wondering why we decided to bring you along."_ She muttered, though her voice still filtered through the coms.

From across the room, Steve could see the archer fold his arms and lean back in his chair. _"Well excuse me. But same of us maybe don't want to be tossed back into a cell. A cell, I'd like to add, that neither of you had the pleasure of experiencing, thank you very much."_ He snapped before adding, _"Sam, back me up here, man."_

There was a pause before Sam's voice cut back in. "If you had to listen to Scott's god-awful singing in there, you'd be pretty pissed too, you guys."

Clint gave a small victorious huff.

"Can we maybe focus here, please?" Steve interjected, casting small glares to both Clint and Nat, who turned away with slightly disgruntled looks on their faces. He let out a small sigh as he pressed his fingers against his eyes underneath the glasses.

"Look, I know this is risky. But we've been tracking these guys for months. We know they meet up in public areas to try and hide in plain sight." He explained, Natasha's voice cutting in as well. "And from what we were able to get from those two guys we caught a week ago, they said the next meeting was gonna be here." She said, Steve's mind snapping to when they'd taken down one of the smaller plants of workers, squeezing the small hint of information from one of the guys before the police had arrived.

Clint scoffed. " _Right. Cause criminals have been known to be such trustworthy people in the past."_

Natasha stole a small glance over toward the man. " _We trust each other, don't we?"_ She asked, her face unreadable.

Clint's, however, was not as he glared back at her, hands clenching slightly. " _We're **not** criminals_." He growled, the anger tangible in just his voice alone as it shot through the coms.

" _We are to the people who matter."_ The woman shot back.

The archer turned towards her, teeth gritted _. "Like we should-_ "

" _Enough_."

Steve's voice was enough to silence both of them as they held their gazes for a moment longer before turning away, instantly becoming ordinary customers of the cafe once more. The super soldier continued to tap his fingers against the sides of the cup. Upon noticing the tense posture of both of his teammates, the man couldn't help but let out a breath as he continued in a more resigned tone, "We'll talk about this later."

 _"Oh, great."_ They all startled as Sam piped up. _"We have that to look forward to. The Clint/Natasha Wars, Part 53._ " If they could have seen through the coms, they were all positive Sam would have been rolling his eyes. " _I'll be sure to save a seat."_

Steve lowered his head with an aggravated sigh as he opened his mouth once again, only for Natasha to beat him to it. " _Hold up. I got something."_

Instantly, the others were silenced at the woman's harsh tone, Steve's muscles reflexively coiling as he lifted his gaze, eyes scanning the room for any sign of strange movement or suspicious characters.

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap..._

 _"Side entrance. Dark hoodie. Sunglasses."_

The super soldier washed his eyes over the crowd as the description thudded in the back of his head. After another minute of searching, he rested his gaze on a shadowed figure making his way over towards one of the back tables in the corner of the cafe. He was average height with a muscular build, the hoodie hiding most of his face save for small tips of dirty blonde hair poking out.

Sitting at the table already, there was a man with common reading glasses perched atop his too-long nose, his dark brows knitted together as he stared down at the newspaper laying on the table next to his steaming cup of coffee, which from what Steve could tell, didn't seem to have been touched at all.

He had long black hair that stretched down to his shoulders and a long jacket reaching down to the floor, covering his crossed legs. He didn't look up as the first man approached, silently pulling out the chair across from him as he took a seat.

From where he was sitting plus the added noise of the busy coffee shop, it was impossible to hear what the two were beginning to say as their voices were drowned out in a sea of other swelling noises and shouts.

However, with a small swish of red hair, Steve already knew Natasha was on the move.

Casually walking away from the wall she'd been perched on, the woman moved forward and began to weave around the bustling crowds of people, slipping past the table their suspects were sitting at. Steve was just barely able to detect the woman's hand carefully reaching out as she attached a small round disk about half the size of a penny onto the back of one of the men's chairs, moving away just as casually.

Silently, she walked past Steve as well, pausing as she reached the chair opposite from him at the table. Pulling it out, she quickly sat down as she reached into her pocket and retrieved another small device. This one resembled the communicators already in their ears, if not much smaller.

Pulling out the comm set already lodged in her ear, she carefully attached the new device to the communicator before slipping it back in her ear, the dim blue glow of the device quickly being covered up as she brushed her hair over her ears.

A small flicker of static made Steve cringe slightly as the noise was amplified through his eardrums, but it eventually settled down as the sound of nearby voices began to fill his ears. And they weren't his teammates.

Flickering his eyes up for a moment, he was able to make out the two men at the back table. The last to arrive had his arm propped up on the back of his chair while the other continued to stare down at the newspaper.

" _Anything interesting happenin' today?"_ The first man asked, gesturing to the paper with a lopsided smirk on his face. Now that he was seated, Steve could make out more details. His face was scratched up and his chin was covered in stubble, as if he hadn't shaved in a while. The look resembled that of a homeless man. His nose was crooked, like it had been broken many times over, and there was a small scar running through one of his eyebrows.

The other man let out a small sigh as he set the paper down, resting his elbows on the table as he folded his hands together in the air. " _Nothing much, honestly."_ He replied with a shrug. The slightly more serious nature of his tone and face gave Steve the impression that he had more authority in the situation, if only slightly.

He glanced back at Natasha as the woman gave him a similar look, confirming his suspicions.

The man who'd originally started out at the table removed the glasses from his face and tossed them down haphazardly onto the table, making Steve wonder whether or not he actually needed them, or if they were just another part of his disguise. He was willing to bet on the latter. " _How are we doing, Mark?"_ He asked, his tone taking on a hushed quality as he stared back at his partner.

The other man - _Mark -_ as he had been called, gave a small smirk as he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. " _I got the boys working full-time now. They were a bit testy to start, but operations are running smoothly and we're getting plenty of clientele so they've settled."_ His voice carried over through the coms.

His partner didn't seem to feel the same sense of lackadaisical content as he gave a firm frown, pressing his fingers against his lips as he furrowed his brows tightly. " _Nothing but a bunch of low-life thugs and common street criminals."_ He muttered.

Mark cocked a brow as he tossed one hand dismissively into the air. " _Well...yeah. I mean, who else would we be selling to?"_ He asked. " _It's not like we can just go tossing this shit out to whoever, you know."_

 _"See, that's your problem, Mark."_ The other man said as he pointed a finger at him. _"You're not thinking big enough. We're dealing with some serious tech here_ , man." He murmured quietly, though the hidden speaker was still able to pick up on each and every word. " _You really think there aren't thousands of people who want to get their hands on some of that stuff?"_ He leaned closer, eyes narrowed. " _People with a_ lot _more money than a bunch of fucking gang members."_

Mark stared hard at the man before him, letting out a breath as he gave his partner a hard look. " _What are you pickin' at, Nicky?"_

 _Nicky_ leaned back in his chair as a large grin split his face, revealing a row of stained, crooked teeth. " _I'm saying I think I got us a job. A_ big _one."_

Steve narrowed his eyes as he glanced back at Natasha, who stared at him with a knowing look in her cold eyes. From across the cafe, he could just make out Clint tapping his fingers against the table he sat at, brows knitted together in concentration as the archer listened in.

Turning away, Steve stared back down at his cup as the voices of the two men filled his ears again.

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap..._

 _"I'm still working out the details, but if I can hook this guy, it'll be a huge profit for us."_ Nicky grinned. " _These dudes mean business."_

Mark raised a hand and scratched at his chin. " _How so?"_ He muttered, still looking a bit unconvinced.

Nicky paused for a moment before letting out a sigh, shaking his head slightly as he ran a hand through his greasy hair. " _I don't know, man. They're pretty hardcore, if you know what I mean."_ He grimaced slightly, Mark letting out a sniff.

" _Well do you have any idea who they are?"_

 _"That's just it, Mark. Never seen any of their faces."_ He scoffed. " _They're always wearing these stupid masks and..."_ He trailed off for a moment before continuing. " _...there's gotta be some shit in those things that makes their eyes glow or something."_ He muttered, glancing down at the floor as he mulled it over.

" _Weird..."_

Steve furrowed his brow as the words filled his ears. _Masks..._ He thought to himself, mind subconsciously drifting to the dark black colors and harsh markings of the masks the German Hydra soldiers had adorned back on the battlefields. _Maybe..._ _but it seems like a bit of a stretch_. He murmured, realizing that wearing such a thing nowadays in modern business might be a bit off-putting.

Quickly shaking the thoughts from his head, he quickly tuned back into the conversation, eyes hard as he glared down at the table.

Nicky snorted. " _I know, right?"_

His partner curled his lip as he leaned his elbows onto the surface of the table. " _Hold up. IF you don't know anything about these guys, then how do you eve know they're legit?"_ He snapped.

Nicky narrowed his eyes. " _Look, man. All I know - and all I_ need _to know - is that their main guy's a high roller."_ He muttered with a sickening smirk.

From across the table, Steve could make out Natasha furrowing her brows at that. He glanced up at her, giving her a small questioning look, to which she responded with a narrowed look of her own. He's have to ask her about it later.

 _"I don't know which one it is. There's plenty out there nowadays, but that means he's got big bucks to pay us."_ He explained, tapping one of his knuckles against the table softly. " _So we gotta be ready to grant him a nice little shopping spree if you know what I mean."_ He snickered.

Mark let out a sigh as he ran a hand down his face, resting it against the side of his cheek as he rubbed his fingers against the lines of stubble. " _We'll need to start getting the other stations up and running if that's the plan, Nicky."_

 _"Well, Mackview is still our biggest operator yet so the keep focus on there."_ The man responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. _"For now, keep grouping in the small fish - thugs, gangs, crooks - all that shit until I can wrap this deal down. Got it?_ " He muttered.

Clint lifted up his head from the other side of the cafe, Steve catching his eye as he did so. The archer's eyes hardened as he mouthed the word _"Mackview"_ to the super soldier, Steve giving a small nod. It was a start.

Mark lett out a small scoff as he rested his cheek against his propped-up fist. " _You better be right about this, man."_

 _"Trust me, if things goes down the way I plan, this'll set us up_ bigtime." He sneered.

Mark paused for a moment as he seemed to drink in the other man's words before he let out a small breath, giving a nod as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. " _So how are you gonna get in contact with this group? I mean if they really mean business-"_

 _"Guys. We got a problem."_

Sam's terse tone cutting into the coms had all three fugitives sitting up straighter, regretfully pulling their focus away from the conversation still filtering in through the earpieces. "What is it, Sam?" Steve hissed, glaring at the pair of suspects before glancing up towards the ceiling, switching the link on the coms away from the conversation and back onto their private channel, cutting off what the two had currently been speaking about.

 _"We got company._ " Was all he had to reply to have all three Avengers staring at each other for a split second before they each stood up from their seats, fighting to keep their motions casual and calm as their hearts raced and their muscles coiled in anger and frustration.

"How many?" Natasha growled, her tone low and dangerous.

There was a beat of silence before Sam's voice picked up once again. "Roundabout patrols are coming into the area to do a sweep. Four police cruisers. Two vans. Twelve guys in total. Four FBI from what I can make of them _."_ He answered as Steve slowly tossed his cup in the trash as Natasha moved closer to him, taking his arm as the pair once more disguised as a couple. Of course, Steve was used to the woman's faux advances nowadays and simply wrapped his arm around her waist, fighting to keep his fingers from clenching into a fist as he grit his teeth.

 _"They spot us yet?"_ Clint asked, rising from his seat as well, adjusting the glasses on his face.

" _I don't think so. They're not making any advances towards you guys. But their scoping the area and making their way closer to ya'll so you better get out of there now if you don't want them to make you."_ He instructed, the frustrations he was feeling coming through in the words he spoke.

Barton threw Steve and Natasha a glare before turning to glower at the tabletop. " _We're finally starting to learn something."_ HE growled, the true unspoken words hanging in the air - you really think we can just leave now?

Natasha caught his look and narrowed her eyes. _"We won't be able to do anything if we're caught."_

Clint said nothing as his eyes burned, his head lowering as he turned away. Steve took a deep breath. "We need to move. Sam, meet us at the rendezvous point. _Don't_ get spotted. Whatever it takes." He ordered as he and Natasha began to make their way towards the entrance. He paused at the door, keeping his head forward as he spoke again. "Wait two minutes, then follow us out."

Barton didn't look at him as he gave a small nod.

Taking a deep breath, he stole a small glance at Natasha, who said nothing. She simply blinked at him and gave a small reassuring squeeze of his arm. Nodding to himself, he steeled his heart and opened the door to the cafe.

The heat circling through the walls of the cafe only made the brisk air outside all the more colder. Chills ran down his spine as he and Natasha walked down the steps of the cafe and onto the concrete below. Despite the warning bells in his head, Steve couldn't help but steal a glance up.

Across the street, police cars were lining up along the sidewalk up the block and farther down the street. Cops were willing about the bustling crowds currently walking about, eyes peeled and heads swiveling. Farther down the street, he could make out the large black vans that Sam had pointed out, no doubt housing some pissed off FBI agents.

Ripping his eyes away, Steve focused back in on keeping his movements casual as he walked down the street, Natasha by his side. Thankfully, the street was pretty busy with other occupants bustling and shoving past each other.

Then again, on a less positive note, there were also officers milling about the crowds as well, eyes scanning for their faces. Faces that were extremely recognizable.

Subconsciously pulling the lip of his hoodie down just a little more, Natasha leaned closer to him as she kept her eyes peeled on the street. "I thought we had Sam go public on the east side so this _exact_ thing wouldn't happen." She muttered.

It was true. The entire reason they'd even _humored_ the idea of purposely being spotted was so the people who wanted to catch them would be thrown off. If they thought they'd caught a whiff of the " _Rogue Avengers"_ trail, then they should have assumed that the group would bail on the city as fast as possible to try and get away, thus leading the search parties away as well.

Obviously, that was not the case.

He leaned down. "Guess they're not taking any chances." He growled, eyes narrowed.

Instinctively turning his head away as a cop walked by, a little too close for comfort. _We need to get off this street._ He thought to himself, realizing they were much too exposed walking where they were. The rendezvous point was actually an old storefront that appeared to have been closed down for quite some time located a few blocks away from the cafe. They'd stored their bikes in the back lot of the store, away from any prying eyes. Finding such a spot hadn't been all that tricky.

Getting back to it, however, would prove to be much more difficult.

Watching another pair of cops walk closer, Natasha whipped out her phone from her back pocket and lowered her head and kept her eyes locked on the screen, hiding her face from view as Steve looked over her shoulder, hoodie shrouding his features in shadow.

His muscles would remain tense even as the cops walked past, mainly due to the fact that the officers had lingered on the pair for a moment before moving on. Natasha glanced over her shoulder before making out another officer walking slightly ahead of them. "We're too exposed out here."

Steve didn't bother in nodding as the cop moved closer. Scanning the immediate area, he noticed a bus stop a few feet from them near the street. Grabbing Natasha, the two quickly stepped away from the crowd and pressed up against the back billboard of the bus-stop. Leaning his head out slightly, Steve watched the officer walk past, fingers twitching against his side.

He grunted as he felt Natasha elbow him in the side, turning back around to face her. She angled her head to something across the street. Narrowing his eyes, the super soldier could just make out the large green sign and the steel metal handrails leading down into the underground tunnel. _The Subway. Of course!  
_

 _"_ Come on. Hurry up." He whispered as they quickly moved away from the bus stop and made for the street. The sharp sound of car horns sounded as they haphazardly crossed the street, not even bothering to wait for the crosswalk. Steve leaned down as they moved. "You know, I distinctly remember you telling me that when you're on the run, you gotta act like there's nothing to run from." He muttered, throwing a look over his shoulder as drivers flipped them off.

"I'm not really getting that impression right now."

Natasha didn't bother looking up at him as they stepped onto the other side of the street. "That was when there weren't two dozen cops stepping right on our tails." She shot back. "You really want to try and act like there's nothing to hide, Mr. Number One Fugitive?"

He threw her a small glare but said nothing, begrudgingly realizing she had a point. The last time he'd run from the law with her, the public hadn't known about it, merely a few - albeit corrupt - SHIELD agents.

That was not the case this time. This time, the entire world knew about their status. The entire world was looking for them, which made it much harder to try and simply blend in considering the people he was trying to blend in with could reveal him at anytime. All it would take is one fan staring at his face for a second too long.

"Can't believe I'm starting to miss the days where the only people out to get us were a couple of HYDRA goons." He muttered as Natasha threw him a small smirk. "Well, wait a couple hours. You might get your chance at them again."

He said nothing as they approached the subway tunnel, only for their steps to falter as they turned the corner.

"Shit..." Steve growled, Natasha not even bothering to tease him, for she was thinking the same thing.

Standing right at the entrance to the tunnel were two cops, each individually checking people before they descended down into the tunnel. Quickly moving off the main sidewalk, the two pressed themselves into one of the nearby alleyways between the two storefronts outside the subway.

"We need to get down there. It's the only way we're getting through this without being spotted." Natasha growled, realizing the number of cops quickly filling the streets was too much, even for them. Even for her. "We need something to draw them away. A distraction."

Steve leaned his head out to stare at the two cops, nearby officers catching his eye as well. He pressed his hand to the wall, the cold brick grazing his fingertips. He narrowed his eyes as he realized the wall belonged to a popular department store. A department store with a security alarm. A pretty loud one.

"Or someone to _cause_ a distraction."

Natasha turned to him at that, eyes dark. "No." She hissed instantly.

"When they leave, you get down that tunnel as fast as possible and meet up at the point. Clint will probably already be there when you do." He explained, completely ignoring her remark. "I'll meet you both there as soon as I lose them."

Natasha wrapped her icy grip around his arm. "Rogers. I swear to God..." She snarled. "It's too dangerous. We'll find another way around."

He turned to her. "Natasha. More and more officers are starting to patrol as we speak. And the second they're done here, they'll move onto the next block. And the next. How do you propose we avoid them? Better question: how are we supposed to avoid _all_ of them?" He asked, gesturing to the crowds of people still walking down the streets.

He pulled his hoodie down farther over his face. "This is the fastest way we're getting out of here without blowing our cover. We still have to meet up with the others and tell them what we've learned. And we can't do that from a jail cell." He growled.

"Which is why this is a stupid idea." Natasha seethed, though she knew it was useless to argue. Unless she had concrete evidence that there was another _effective_ way around this, there was to be no stopping him. Steve was _dangerously_ stubborn at times. Almost as much as he was reckless. She knew that almost as well as anyone _could._

He moved closer to the street, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll meet you two in ten minutes."

She glared back at him, folding her arms over her chest. "Not if they catch you." She muttered.

Steve rested his hand on the cold wall once again as he stared out at the crowd. "They won't." He murmured before moving out of the alleyway. Natasha walked him with narrowed eyes before letting out an annoyed huff. He was right. They wouldn't.

It didn't take long for the cops to whip their attention to the suspicious hooded figure, especially when he threw a trashcan through a department store window. Unbeknownst to the cops, Natasha was rolling her eyes as she leaned up against the back alley wall, muttering something about an _over-dramatic idiot_ under her breath.

 _Well...I got their attention._ Steve muttered to himself as he quickly began to push and shove past pedestrians as he ran. He could hear the sound of shouts behind him as well as the distant sound of sirens slowly approaching. Stealing a single glance over his shoulder, he was just _barely_ able to make out a single head of red hair swishing around the crowd, quickly making its way towards the subway.

Giving a satisfied nod, he turned back around and hissed in frustration at the approaching intersection. Thankfully, the light turned red just as he approached, his arms slamming down onto the hood of one of the cars as he slid himself overtop it.

Rolling along the ground as he dodged past the others, he quickly jumped back up to his feet and continued on. The shouts behind him continued to grow both in size and number as he ran, his eyes sliding back to catch a glimpse.

Shaking his head, he narrowed his eyes and began to pump more into his legs, realizing he could easily outrun the officers without even breaking a sweat. Still, he had to keep them distracted long enough for Natasha to escape, meaning he had to keep them on his tail for as long as he possibly could.

He was thrown from his thoughts as two police cruisers shot forward from the street, blocking his path along the oncoming intersection. Cursing under his breath, the man noticed the break in the building walls just a little farther up ahead. Running towards the cars, the officers shouted at him as he hid his face and squeezed through, entering the long alleyway.

He grunted as he jumped over the rotting piles of wooden boxes, officers rounding the corner as they began to fill the alleyway behind him. Eyes catching the tall chain-link fence on the other side of the path, Steve thew another small glance behind him before leaping up, fingers wrapping around the cold metal as he began to pull himself up. Flipping over the top, he landed with a grunt on the other side, fingers still latched around the metal as he stared out at the other side, the officers quickly approaching.

Blinking in realization, he turned his head away before they could get any closer, turning back around as the officers reached the fence. "Stop right there or we will open fire!" One voice rang out clearer among the others.

Steve couldn't help but growl in frustration before staring back down at the path. At the fence, the dirt path sloped downward to a lower level of the street, which was much less crowded than the main street.

Leaping away from the fence, Steve felt his feet slide against the mud as he sloped down the path. He winced as gunshots began to fill his ears, instinctively curling himself in tighter as he tried to make himself seem as small as possible.

Another cruiser pulled up along the street where he'd turned up, two more officers stepping out, their guns raised. "Put your hands in the air! Do it!" One of them yelled before Steve rushed past them, leaping over their car as he rolled along the ground right as the bullets shot past.

After another second, his legs were pumping once again, the wind whipping past him as he ran, stinging his face and making his eyes water at the sharp slap. Rounding the corner, his eyes made out the noticeable shape of the nearby fruit stand sitting near the street. Pushing forward, he reached his hand out and slammed his arm down against the wooden posts of the stand, fruit and wooden splinters flying behind him.

He winced internally at the action, having become acutely aware of just how much damage he and his teammates actually caused in their endeavors, an action that didn't _not_ stem from the entire Accords mess. Still, couldn't say he didn't have good reason. In fact, Steve was beginning to suspect this had gone on for long enough.

Eyes scanning for another route, the man noticed another break in the buildings across the street, similar the alleyway he'd just popped out of. Only this one had a fire escape leading up to the rooftops.

Narrowing his eyes, the man pushed off and began to make for the building, realizing Natasha had to have made it underground by now. The officers were still in hot pursuit from what he could hear, but it didn't matter much anymore. Gunshots continued to ring out around him as he tried to run in a haphazard manner, ducking and dodging with no real set pattern as his movements became more and more sporadic.

Finally, he reached the other side of the street, his breath billowing out around him as he eyed the fire railing. The shouts were growing louder now. The cops from before must have finally found a way around the fence.

Gritting his teeth Steve jumped up and wrapped his fingers around the rusted railing of the fire escape. The metal creaked and groaned underneath his weight, but he was able to pull himself up fairly quickly.

He hissed as a bullet grazed his leg, but continued on nevertheless. Pieces of brick flew out from the wall where the bullets were beginning to hit it, but he kept climbing until his hand wrapped around the very top ledge of the building. Flipping himself over, he brushed his fingers against the ground before leaping back up, running along the rooftop before coming to the ledge once again.

He didn't even pause before he was launching himself from the rooftop, soaring in the air for just a second before he was rolling along the roof of the next building over. He continued to leap from one building to the next for what seemed like forever until the sound of gunshots no longer met his ears and the sirens were nothing but a distant cry.

Landing on one final rooftop, the man rolled along the ground once again, the gravel sticking to his arms and legs as he crouched there, small pants escaping his lips as the cold air gripped his lungs tightly. He took a small breath as he slowly rose back up to his feet, chest heaving slightly.

The wind blew past him, sharply blowing his hoodie off of his head as his hair whipped along his face. He stared out over the city, the sun steadily rising in the sky despite the numerous dark clouds slowly rolling in.

Despite the small nag in his head refuting the idea, Steve couldn't help but reach his gaze farther, making out the distant sight of flashing red and blue lights as well as the numerous officers still milling around the streets.

He stared at the sight for a moment longer before he let out a deep, pained sigh. Turning away, Steve slowly lowered himself down to the ground, resting his forearms on his knees as he plopped down, leaning the back of his head against the ledge as he closed his eyes, a deep pang of disappointment settling in his chest that seemed to cause much more damage than any bullet fired at him.

Bullets that were fired by the _good guys._ For despite the fact that they hadn't seen his face, it was impossible to forget that he - Captain America - Golden Boy of the United States - National Hero in the eyes of millions - was now a criminal.

* * *

 **Thursday - March 31, 2016**

 **Location Unknown**

 **10:03 a.m.**

The sharp crimson glow coming from her eyes cast long shadows along the concrete floor of the warehouse as Wanda opened her eyes, her body settling back down onto the dirty surface from where it had once been hovering.

She let out a small breath as she stole a small glance towards the main entrance door of the warehouse. From where she was sitting in the far left corner of the structure, she could make out the steel door from across the room had yet to be opened.

She turned away, having been expecting as much. After all, their mission was not to be a short one. Stakeouts could be long and tedious, so there was truly no telling when they would be back.

Still, she couldn't help but peek over at the door from time to time in between her meditations, despite the constant flare of annoyance that spiked within her every time. _Stop being so ridiculous._ She scolded herself as she shook her head and closed her eyes once more. _They'll be fine. They're professionals._ She thought, trying to resist the small pang of hurt that sparked at that thought, realizing it was probably the reason they hadn't brought her or Scott along.

With a final growl of frustration, the young woman tightly squeezed her eyes closed as she took another deep breath. She had to refocus. Now that she wasn't fighting or going on missions as constantly as she had been before as an official Avenger, she'd had less and less reason to use her magic.

Without a proper discharge, the energy was starting to build up inside her, something she knew could be extremely dangerous if not treated properly. Meditation seemed to help.

Of course, if she could only focus long enough to actually _do_ it...

Slowly calming her nerves, the girl released the tension in her eyes and her muscles as she inhaled deeply, feeling the cold air seep into her lungs as she flexed her fingers once again. Crossing her legs, she focused on feeling each and every breath she took, noting how her chest expanded before falling loose once more.

Gently, she began to twirl her fingers around in the air, the familiar burn of her magic culminating in her chest. Slowly, small wisps of red trails began to rise up from her fingertips, seeping through her skin and pooling around her chest.

Her hair began to flare out slightly, blowing around her shoulders as her body began to levitate off of the ground, the wisps of red swirling around her gently in a whirlwind of crimson energy. She could feel it in her heart. In her fingers, her skin, her eyes. The comforting warmth of her magic flowing through her body. The gripping sensation of her nerves pulsing loudly as every cell in her body seemed to glow with fire. Her eyes burned underneath her eyelids, the skin glowing a faint red through the skin.

Instantly, all the tension she'd been feeling before seemed to evaporate as she was enveloped in the comforting touch, her magic seeming to wash away the frustrations, the anger, the pain.

She let out a small breath as her body relaxed, fingers flying effortlessly as her hair gently billowed out around her. For a single moment, for the first time since everything had turned rotten, Wanda felt at peace.

Until Scott started humming.

Closed eyes twitching slightly, she tried to concentrate on the swirling tendrils of magic, only for his humming to rise an octave. With a small growl of frustration, she opened her eyes and dropped back to the ground, glaring over into the corner, where Scott currently lay sprawled out on his dusty mattress, one leg propped up on his knee, arms folded underneath his head as he hummed.

She let out an exasperated sigh as she placed one elbow on her knee and propped her cheek up with her fist. "Do you _have_ to do that so loudly?" She muttered with a cocked brow.

Scott pushed himself up onto his elbows and threw her a look. "Well what do you _expect_ me to do?" He tossed one arm out dismissively. "I feel like I'm going crazy over here!"

Wanda shook her head. "Why don't you try meditating?" She asked as she turned away and closed her eyes, concentrating back on her magic once again.

"Is _that_ what you were doing? I thought you just took sleepwalking to the extreme or something."

The girl let out a loud sigh as she dropped her head, her chin nearly hitting her chest. The thought of tying up and gagging the man with her magic had just entered her mind when the soft sound of engines reached her ears, her head shooting back up. She met Scott's gaze. They'd both heard it. And the noise was steadily growing louder.

"Someone's coming." She voiced what they both were thinking, the words barely having left her mouth before the two of them were on their feet and moving towards hte center of the warehouse. Along the center spine of the structure stood five large cement pillars that were nearly as big around as small cars, the space between them about as far apart as _three_ of said cars.

Quickly rushing to stand behind the large structures, both Wanda and Scott shared confused glances. The others weren't due to be back for at least another couple of hours. SO who else could have possibly found them?

Wanda was already pooling crimson magic into the palms of her hand when the main door to the warehouse opened up with an ear-piercing shriek, the steel door swinging hard into the wall with a _BANG!_

The two winced at the noise, but instantly relaxed once they saw who it was coming in through the door. Of course, the looks on their teammates faces made a small twinge of unease course through their guts, so that was a slight negative.

"You're back? Already?" Scott asked, cocking his head as he and Wanda stepped out from their hiding places. Cling brushed past them as he shrugged his jacket off and practically threw it onto the metal racks bolted to the wall. "We kinda didn't have much of a choice." He growled.

THe two confused parties turned to Natasha as she moved closer. "The cops showed up." She sighed, moving to the rack as well to remove her jacket. Scott's eyes widened. "You serious?" He gaped.

"Dozens of them." Sam muttered, removing the metal pack from his back. "Apparently, they're doing patrols along the major city streets trying to flush us out."

Wanda stepped forward, eyes hard. "They didn't see you, did they?"

Natasha gave a small scoff. "No. Captain Moron over here took care of that." She motioned her head towards Steve, who brushed past her to remove his own jacket. "We're here, aren't we?" He muttered, throwing her an annoyed look, to which she responded with a roll of her eyes.

Wanda watched the silent exchange between the two and chalked it up to a spat that had occurred during their mission as she folded her arms over her chest. "I thought we send Sam out just so this _didn't_ happen."

Steve shook his head. "Well, apparently that didn't work all too well for us." He sighed.

Scott glanced back at the others before taking a step forward. "So, do they really think we're still in the city?" He asked, glancing around. "Or do they think we've already moved on and are just looking for any clues as to where we _might_ have gone?"

Several glances were exchanged before all eyes landed on Steve. The man stared back at them for a moment before shaking his head and lowering his gaze. "I don't know."

Natasha pursed her lips as she moved past the group. Near the back wall, they'd pushed up an old, abandoned wooden table they'd found out back against the side wall, a few rusted chairs leaning up against it.

Taking out her gun, the woman placed the weapon on the table as she took a seat in one of the chairs, pulling a small rag from her pocket as she began to wipe the cloth over the metal of the pistol. "Well, that's gonna determine just how far we can push our missions now." She explained, glancing back towards the others as they all moved to stand around the table as well. "If we have every cop in the city looking for us, then you can pretty much erase any and all plans of us stepping two feet from this place unless we want the entire police force up out asses." She muttered.

Scott let out a humorless scoff. "Well, that's just great. That's...that's _fantastic."_

Steve raised a hand and rubbed his fingers against his eyes as Wanda spoke up once again. "Did you at least find anything out? Anything we can use?" She urged.

"We think we might have gotten their main base of operations for now." Sam explained. "They mentioned something about Mackview. I'm assuming that's the name of the city area it's in, but I've never heard of it before." He sighed, glancing over at Steve, who shook his head as well, signifying he didn't know either.

"I'm guessing it's a warehouse of sorts. Kind of like this one." The super soldier interjected. "It'll have to be big if it's their main base."

Scott lifted his head back up. "Well, did you find out if they really _are_ working with that... _Hydra-_ thing?"

Steve gave him a strange look at the name as Clint responded for him. "Nope. The cops made sure of that." The archer muttered back with a sharp look in his eyes. A look that had been growing ever-more persistent with each day that passed.

"What do you mean?" Wanda asked as Steve slowly moved over towards Natasha and took a seat next to her, propping his elbow up on the table as he let out a deep sigh, running a hand down his face. "They were talking about some sort of deal. A big one." He started.

"The buyers are apparently a group of shady characters that might be what we're looking for." He leaned back in the chair, folding his arms over his chest. "I mean, this kind of stuff would be right up their ally. Ever since SHIELD fell, most of the HYDRA sleeper agents had to go undercover just to remain in hiding, so they'll more likely than not, jump at the opportunity to score some mass weapons like these."

He grimaced slightly. "Of course, we had to leave before we could actually get any more out of them."

"So we're pretty much back to square one." Sam chided as he moved over towards the back wall and slid down to the floor, not bothering in reaching for a chair as he simply sat down on the ground resting his back against the cold concrete wall.

Scott glanced around at the others, taking in their faces holding looks ranging from worry to disgust to frustration. He quirked a brow as he tentatively raised his hand. Clint eyes him strangely as he tossed his hand in the air. "Why are you always raising your hand, man? Just speak!"

He blinked at the response before lowering his hand. "Right, right...um...I- sorry, but I was just...like, can you tell me again what's so special about these guns?" He asked, tilting his head as he awkwardly folded his arms behind his back as to avoid raising them once again.

Natasha glanced over at him. "You remember that alien invasion in New York back in 2012?" She asked, Scott instantly nodding his head. "Yeah! That shit was crazy! For the longest time, we all thought it was some sort of practical joke or publicity stunt until every news station in the frikkin _universe_ started reporting on it." He scoffed.

"Yeah well, these weapons are made from the same shit as that alien tech." Clint muttered as Natasha piped up once again. "Meaning if handled correctly, it could slice through steel like warm butter and blow up three city blocks. And that's just for starters." She growled.

Scott blinked at them for a moment before giving a small nod, smacking his lips together awkwardly. "Mkay. So...weapons bad. No weapons. Got it." He gave a small thumbs up, most of the others rolling their eyes as they turned back towards Steve.

"So what do we do now? If everybody's on watch like you said, then it's gonna be a while until you can get any information about these guys again." Wanda stated, placing her hands on her hips as she gave the man an inquisitive look.

Before he could respond, however, Clint was standing back up, placing his palms down on the surface of the table. "I'll tell you what we do." He narrowed his eyes. "We say here and remain low until this all blows over."

The others glanced over at Clint, eyes wide in shock at the man's claim. Steve shook his head, eyes hard. "That's not an option." He exclaimed, his tone rough.

Clint turned to him. "Cap, come on!" He exclaimed, leaning closer. "It's _suicide_ to go out there now and you know it!" He snapped, jabbing a finger in the man's direction.

The soldier didn't back down. "We can't just stop now. Not when we know what we do. Now when we can do something." He replied, fingers twitching slightly at his sides.

Scott shook his head. "Yeah, nuh-uh. That's a terrible idea." He interjected, eyes wide.

"So that's your plan? You're just going to hide here like cowards?" Wanda hissed, eyes narrowed as she curled her lips, not understanding in the _slightest_ why they seemed so adamant in staying hidden and away from danger.

Clint stared at her for a second, eyes hard as he opened his mouth to say something, only for Scott to beat him to it. The usually-chipper man was now excreting an aura of anger as he glared down at the girl. "No. We're hiding like guys with something to lose." He muttered, tone dark and grim. "And I'm not going to jeopardize any more by going out there and trying to catch some common thugs that may or may not have had a few dealings with some ex-HYDRO agents."

"HYDRA." Sam corrected.

"Whatever. I have way too much to lose." The man sighed, folding his arms as he turned away, eyes glaring hard at the concrete floor below.

Steve hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the man's sudden shift in behavior. In the short amount of time he'd known him, Steve had never seen Scott react in such a way. Though, of course, he knew the exact reason why he had. Wanda had struck a nerve. A pretty sensitive one by the looks of it.

"Look, I know this is risky." Sam cut in, stepping forward. "And if it were anything else, I would be right there with you guys, Clint." He started. "But coming from someone who's experienced what these guys can do _firsthand_ , I have to agree with Cap." He sighed. "We can't take that chance. Not with HYDRA."

"So why do _we_ have to do this then?" The archer asked, eyes narrowed as his fingers curled slightly. "Why is that our responsibility?"

Steve raised his head, eyes hard. "Cause it's our job." He stressed, slightly surprised at the words coming out of the man's mouth. "Whether people want us to do it or not, it's our duty as heroes. This is what we signed up for."

Wanda shook her head, hands shaking. "No. I didn't sign up to be chased like a rat by the very people we are trying to protect." She snapped. "I didn't sign up to be treated like a criminal when we haven't even done anything wrong."

"There's plenty of people out there who would disagree with that." Natasha muttered, staring at the girl with an unimpressed look.

"So then why don't we just leave this to the assholes who put us in this situation in the first place?" Clint growled. "Why don't we let _them_ take care of it?"

Steve stood up from his seat by the table. "How could they possibly know about this?" He asked. "The only way they could find out is if one of us let them know." He explained as Natasha tilted her head, jutting in. "And I don't think any of them would be too keen on listening to the word of a couple of criminals."

"We _aren't_ criminals!" Wanda glared, Clint seething right next to her.

Natasha stood her ground. "We are to _them."_ She scoffed, glancing over towards the exit.

Before anyone else could shout in a few more arguments, Scott was raising up his hand again, quickly putting it down when Clint glared at him. "I don't know about that." He added anyways. "If any of you ever _bothered_ to get on social media, you'd see for yourselves." He scoffed with a roll of his eyes, continuing when the others gestured impatiently for him to go on. "There's tons of people on Twitter who side with us, and I'm sure there's plenty more on Facebook and Instagram and all those other sites, too."

Sam couldn't help but snort as he waved his hand. "Oh, that's great! That's just what we need. An army of teenage, geeky, hormonal fans backing us up." He rolled his eyes. "We're a force to be reckoned with now!"

Steve narrowed his eyes. "Enough." He growled, the grumbling scattering around the room instantly silencing at the word. "I know this is dangerous, especially for you two." He glanced over at Clint and Scott, the former folding his arms and looking away while the latter glanced down at his feet, a regrettable look marring his face.

"But that's the job." He continued. "If we sat back and did nothing, when we _knew_ what was happening, when we had the chance to stop it, then that really does make us the bad guys." He murmured.

Clint stared at him incredulously. "Us? Seriously? No, no, no. We are _not_ the bad guys here. We were _never_ the bad guys!" He shouted.

Sam shook his head. "Then how come we're the ones who've gotta hide?" He muttered, glaring down at the floor.

"Cause we're the ones that lost." Natasha sighed. "I know it isn't fair I know it isn't right. And I know you're all angry." She looked around the room at all of them, the tensions mounting with each new person that threw out their opinion. "But at the end of the day, that's what this all boils down to. We're the ones that came out on the bottom. So this is the consequence we have to deal with." She explained, leaving out the part where she believed they kinda deserved it, realizing it would probably just make things worse.

Clint leveled her a cool stare for a moment, silence ringing out around the warehouse before he spoke again, his voice low. "Even realizing that, you still wanna try and get through to Stark."

The atmosphere instantly froze over as tensions rose to insurmountable heights at the mention of the man's name. Steve glared back at the archer. "Clint, don't start." He warned, tone low and dangerous.

"No, seriously!" The man continued, realizing he'd struck a nerve and digging in deeper. "I'm sure you didn't tell him about this little mission of ours, huh, Nat?" HE asked, the mocking tone of his voice making Natasha curl her fists, grateful her gun was now sitting on the table surface, slightly out of her reach.

"Doesn't surprise me." Wanda muttered, eyes glowing a pale crimson as she spoke. "Stark doesn't care about anything other than himself." She spat out the name like it physically burned her to speak it. "He probably thinks this is beneath him, which is most likely why he isn't even doing anything." He growled.

Steve took a step closer, fists clenched. "This isn't about Stark."

"It's _all_ about Stark!" Clint snapped. "Cause this all leads back to him! If he hadn't sided with those government asshats, if he'd actually gone along with his, oh I don't know - **teammates,** then we wouldn't even _be_ in this mess now!" He shouted back.

"Enough, you guys." Nat tried to start.

Wanda glared at them. "Why should _he_ get to be the one who comes out on top?" She snarled. "You said it yourself," She glanced over at Steve. "We all made mistakes here, so why is it that _he_ still gets to show his face without getting shot at?!"

"You-"

"Because that's how it always it." She continued, deciding to answer the question herself. "No matter what. All he has to do is wave around a few dollars, flash a couple grins and whatever consequences he might have faced are mysteriously washed away." She growled, glancing over at Sam, the man having said nothing yet. He stared up at her, switching his gaze towards Steve and Nat before his eyes fell back to the floor, a deep sigh falling from his lips. "She's got a point." He muttered, Scott giving a small nod from his position near the wall.

"Exactly!" She shouted. "It's happened before and it'll _keep_ happening. Cause that's what people like Stark do. Whatever they want to whoever they want to do it to!" She snarled, the sharp red tint of her eyes growing more and more piercing.

Steve stepped forward. "Stop trying t-"

"No way, Cap!" Clint growled. "Don't try and tell me we're the ones at fault here. Cause at the end of the say, this is Stark's doing. He's the one who did this to us."

" **I know!"**

Five heads whipped around to stare at Steve, his voice still ringing around the room as he glared at them. "I know that! I know what he did. I know it was wrong. I know the Accords were just as dangerous then as they are now." He growled. "But we also did this to ourselves. You can't possibly think, Clint, that when you _willingly_ joined us to fight against the Accords that there wouldn't be any repercussions. I warned you before you joined up." He snapped, glaring at the archer. "You're the one that came along. Nobody forced you. Not even Stark."

"Oh, give me a _fucking_ break!" Clint snapped.

"No you know what-"

Instantly, the room was swept up in a frenzy of angry shouts and furious words as the group tangled themselves up in a whirlwind of arguing, the room filling with the sound of everyone's voices as they struggled to be heard over the others, battling for dominance.

The only person who seemed to be incredibly unsure of himself t the moment was Scott, who was staring at the frenzy with wide eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. He winced inwardly at some of the comments he could hear as he lifted a finger and opened his mouth, trying for a moment to get a word in, only to sigh and curl the finger downwards when he realized there was no point.

He turned away just as the back door to the warehouse creaked, his body going rigid as the door slowly cracked open. His eyes stayed locked onto the sight as he turned his body slightly. "Uh...guys?" He called, voice shaking slightly. Judging from the continuing whirlwind that was going on behind him, he was pretty sure the warning had gone right over their heads.

"Guys?"

The door was now fully open now, the new figure standing in the open doorway as the sunlight spilling inside from the new opening shrouding the figure in darkness as the flooding lights cast their long shadow along the warehouse floor. Scott stared for a moment longer, the shouted finally making his hands curl.

" **GUYS!"**

"What?!" Clint shouted as he whirled around, the shouting instantly dying down as they all turned and caught sight of the figure. However, before any of them could truly react, the new person was already talking.

"Jesus Christ. No wonder Fury's getting more and more in-touch with his name nowadays." The woman muttered as she walked inside, a large silver briefcase hanging from her hand. Moving away from the door, the lighting adjusted against her skin so that they could now see just who they were dealing with. She had light pale skin and dark brown hair that was tired back into a ponytail, one hand casually stuffed into her jacket pocket.

"You all really _are_ acting like idiots." Hill grunted as she walked over.

Steve let out a small sigh as he saw her. "Sorry. You...kinda caught us at a bad time." He moaned as a few tense looks were shared around the table. Maria caught all of them as she raised a brow. "Really? You know, I didn't really get that. The screaming and shouting were _so_ subtle." She scoffed as she set the case down onto the table before turning back to the others.

"Extra food and clothes are in the trunk, as usual." She explained, Steve nodding as he glanced over at Sam and Clint. Sam gave a nod of his own as they moved to go and get the new supplies from the car, the archer lingering for a moment as he leveled Steve a hard stare before letting out a soft growl and stalking out.

The soldier let out a soft sigh as he lowered his gaze before focusing it on the two remaining Avengers. "You think you can give us a second?" He asked, staring back at their most recent additions.

Wanda and Scott shared small looks with each other before letting out frustrated sighs of their own, leaving the table to stalk off to their respective corners of the warehouse. Maria watched them leave, making sure they were out of earshot before she turned back towards Steve and Natasha.

"What the hell was _that_ all about?"

Steve hesitated for a moment, casting Natasha a small glance, to which the assassin merely raised a brow. He shook his head. "Nothing you need to worry about." He finally settled on as he moved over towards the table, sitting down once again.

"Just the usual bullshit that you morons are always bickering about nowadays." Maria corrected him as she moved to sit as well, Natasha grabbing a chair on her other side as the woman leaned closer. "And by the way, you're kinda _making_ me worry about it. Which, I'd like to add, is a major inconvenience." She muttered, straightening back up as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Do you know how hard it is to convince Nick that I'm actually on mission right now?" SHe asked, not bothering for an answer. "That man is more paranoid than you guys." She scoffed.

Natasha cast the woman a look. "So he still doesn't know you're helping us?"

Hill let out a soft snort. "God, no. Do you know what he'd do if he found out? He'd make me bring him along the next time we meet just so he could beat some sense into you." She threw the pair a small glare. "And quite frankly, I'm a little tempted to let him", she added.

Steve glanced away, an exasperated look marring his face. "Maria, look w-"

"Don't bother, Steve." She cut him off as she lifted a hand, the other currently resting against her hip. "I don't want to hear your excuses." She muttered. "Why do you think I'm staying away from Stark Tower? If I wanted to get involved in your little hissy fit, that's the first place I would have gone."

Natasha lifted a brow. "You say that...yet here you are." She smirked

The other woman twitched her lips."Yeah, cause stupid or not..." She trailed off for a moment before continuing. "...I still don't want to see you all locked up." The small look of concern was quickly replaced with another annoyed look as she spoke again. "You just make it so goddamn _hard,_ though! I mean, sending Sam out as a red herring? Come on! Seriously?!" She snapped, tossing her hands out before slapping them down on the sides of her legs.

Steve grimaced at that. "Alright, not our _best_ move..." HE moved closer. "But we're still grateful to you. For everything you're doing for us." He added, eyes conveying a look of sincerity Hill was pretty sure nobody could truly mimic. Not even the best con. And she would know, for she really _did_ know the best con.

The woman looked away, giving a small nod as she folded her arms over her chest once again. "I brought what you asked for. Along with the usual stuff." She said right as Sam and Clint returned through the main doors, lugging in arm-fulls of boxes.

As they moved closer and dropped the boxes on the floor near the table, they noticed an assortment of rolled up papers sitting atop of of the large containers. Reaching over, Hill plucked up the paper roll and dropped it onto the table, unfurling it along the surface.

The two recent presences moved closer to the table as Sam cocked a brow questioningly.

"A map?" He asked, glancing up at the others. "What the hell do we need a map for?" He asked. After all, Steve had grown up here. Sure that had been around seventy years ago, but he was still pretty sure the man at least knew most of the basic in's and out's they needed to be familiar with.

As if he knew the question was directed at him, Steve stared down at the map as he spoke. "Well, we might not have gotten their buyers, but we _did_ manage to figure out where their main export center is." He explained before pointing down at a specific spot on the map. "Mackview. I knew that name sounded familiar. I just didn't remember from where." He straightened himself back up and crossed his arms. "Mackview Shipping and Storage Center. It's right by the docks." He stated.

Natasha continued for him. "We'll have to wait till nightfall, then we can suit up and take this place down." He explained. At the skeptical looks that were created from the statement, the super soldier took the lead again. "I know this isn't much, but they said it was their main center of production. So if we can take this place down, we can at least slow them down for a little while." He reasoned.

Clint shook his head, but said nothing as he looked away. His unspoken words still hung in the air, however. Steve narrowed his eyes, but took a calming breathe and moved closer, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Listen, Clint. I know how you feel about this. I know how much you're putting on the line here." The archer didn't look up. "But I promise you that I will try my hardest to make sure this team stays safe. I will not let you all get locked back up in that prison." He stated, his words strong and clear.

The surety of his voice, however, seemed to have little effect on Clint as he turned to give the man a cold stare. "There won't be much you can do about it when you're locked up right alongside us." He muttered softly before pulling away, striding past the table and its occupants and he stalked off.

Steve watched him go, a small sigh of despair sliding past his lips. He knew Clint would stay by their side, no matter what. They'd come this far. He wasn't going to just back out anytime soon. He'd proven that time and time already. Still...Steve wasn't blind to the fact of just how much resentment, frustration and sadness the archer was holding in himself. Feeling that all came down to Steve and his past actions. His past mistakes.

He didn't even bother turning his head as he spoke once more. "Did you check on Laura?"

Maria nodded. "Just like you asked."

"And?"

Both Natasha and Sam also looked towards her as the woman sighed. "She misses him. They all do." She revealed the obvious statement before continuing. "But...they're doing alright. Laura's a strong girl. She can handle herself." She reassured them.

Steve shook his head all the same. "She shouldn't have to."

Natasha glance back at her. "And Scott's?" She asked, remembering the other family man on their team.

"They're fine, too." Hill explained. "His daughter misses him, though. SHe's a cute kid. Nice girl." She smiled, before the calm look evaporated from her face. She turned back towards the super soldier. "Steve, you have _got_ to fix this." SHe stressed. "I don't care what you have to do. You have got to meet with Tony. You two _have_ to work this out." She growled, stalking closer.

"I didn't fill you in on the suspected HYDRA coup just because it's...well _you._ I did it so you'd come back to the city. Cause this isn't going to go away if you just ignore it, no matter what Stark seems to want to think." SHe muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"Cause it's not just this team who's suffering. The national crime rate has spiked since the Avengers disbanded. Terrorist sightings and attacks are becoming more frequent and the number of enhanced individuals stirring up trouble is beginning to become a problem." She breathed. "I mean, Rhodey's the closest thing to a defense line the government's got nowadays. The people still _trust_ him, so that's about all they can use. And SHIELD..." She paused.

"Well...let's just say we're still trying to find out bearings since..."

Cap held up a hand. "Yeah...I know." He muttered.

Hill raised him her hands to tighten the hold on her ponytail. "That's the only way I was able to leak those files on he dealings to you guys. I mean, SHIELD's so busy nowadays trying to deal with the boost in enhanced people as well as actually try and stand back up on our feet after the shitstorm a few years ago to some things are bound to slip through the cracks. Especially when they're given a little push." She scoffed.

Steve gave a small nod. "Well, even rebuilding SHIELD from the ground up seems easier than this." He sighed. "It's...complicated."

"Well, _un_ -complicate it." Hill growled. "And fast. Cause the world's not gonna wait until you two kiss and make nice. And it sure isn't getting any better. Not without the Avengers."

The remaining three around the table all shared knowing glances. Of course, they'd already come to realize such a fact. But having someone actually say it out loud...it just made it all the more real to them.

Maria noticed the looks before letting out a sigh of her own, rubbing at the back of her neck as she shut her eyes. "I have to go. Nick's expecting me to report in in about two hours, and if my broadcasting signal isn't pinging from Miami like I told him it would, I'm gonna get a drone following me everywhere I go." She muttered.

With that, the woman silently made her way towards the door she'd originally come in from. Casting one last look over her shoulder as the disheveled gang that had once been the world's most formidable team, she let out another small breath before turning back around, pushing past the door as it slammed behind her, the sound echoing throughout the empty building.

Steve stared at the door for a moment before turning back towards the table, running a hand down his face as he groaned tiredly. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, the small glance he cast recognizing it as Natasha.

The assassin gave him a pat and a small smile. "You're lucky she hasn't kicked your ass yet." She scoffed with a smirk.

With that, Steve actually gave a surprising huff of amusement. "It's only a matter of time." He muttered. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose from the other side of the table. "Alright. So, you all wanna explain to me just what _exactly_ we're gonna be doing tonight?"

"To _all_ of us."

The three whipped around to find that Wanda and Scott had returned, the looks on their faces making it clear that they weren't leaving again. Behind them, Clint stood off to the side, looking resigned.

Steve stared down at the map of the city while Natasha lifted up the silver case Hill has dropped off, placing it down on the table. Flipping the latches, the opened the large case to reveal the numerous assortments of newly loaded weapons, arrows, guns and any other tech that could possible give them any semblance of a chance to survive.

The super soldier didn't look over at the weapons, and neither did the others. Their soul focus was on him. He stared down at the map, the names, the street ways. He narrowed his eyes as he replayed Sam's last question over in his head. _What_ are _we doing?_ He repeated to himself.

He could feel the stares of the others as they gazed at him. Looking at him for the answers. For direction. For instructions. He knew they didn't have to. _They_ knew they didn't have to. But they'd followed him into this. And they'd be damned if they weren't going to follow him the rest of the way.

He let out a small breath as he raised himself back up, turning around to face the others.

"We do what we can."

* * *

 **Thursday - March 31, 2016**

 **Location Unknown**

 **06:02 p.m.**

The sun was nothing but a frothing ball of warm tones and dulling rays as the sky melted into a warm swirling mix of deep purples, light pinks and bright yellows, a sight that was reflected perfectly in the shimmering waters of the bay.

The window he currently sat next to blew small guts of brisk spring air into his face. The creaking metal of the catwalk shifted and groaned with every twitch he made, but Steve didn't really care. His back sat pressed against the wall, the window allowing the cool air to filter in next to him, blowing his hair gently across his forehead, licking his skin in soft, calming strokes.

The warehouse ceiling above groaned softly as the building settled, the noise mingling into the background as Steve stared out at the view before him. Ever since their _"banishment"_ , each of his teammates had chosen a particular spot they'd frequent the most, and his just happened to be the metallic catwalk hanging above their heads. In all honesty, Steve was more surprised that Clint hadn't claimed this spot.

Lord knew that guy loved his fair share of heights. Or even _more_ than his fair share.

At the thought of the man, Steve's face twitched in slight agitation as his mind jumped back the conversation that had taken place a few hours ago, when he'd gone over their plan.

Without any true information on the mysterious buyers, there was a pretty low chance they'd be able to locate their sale point at the time. So, they'd have to go with their next best option: hitting their main place of manufacturing.

Considering their activities were considered slightly " _illegal"_ nowadays, the team would have to make their move after dark, when they were less likely to be spotted. It'd be a simple mission. Infiltrate. Incapacitate. Bolt. In and out. It would at least buy them some time to come up with another plan to catch up with their buyers as they tried to relocate their supplies and manufacturing point.

In hindsight, the mission seemed to be a simple one. Or...it _would_ have been simple back in the day. At least, that was what his teammates continued to scream at him.

Clint and Scott were still adamant in keeping to the shadows, reluctant to put themselves out there once again considering their stakes in this. Sam was hesitant, but Steve knew the man would follow him into anything, so he at least knew the man had his back in this. Natasha, well...he was _pretty_ sure she was on board. Then again, you could never be too sure with her. She wasn't one to wear her emotions out on her sleeve. And Wanda...Wanda was just angry. Angry at Stark, at their predicament, at _them_ for hiding in the first place, for herself for being one of the reasons for said concealment. But as Steve had told her before, might as well put that anger to good use.

Steve wasn't stupid. He wasn't an idiot. He knew just how dangerous it was to be putting himself and the others out there considering how many people wanted to hang them out to dry. But...he couldn't just stand around and do nothing with the chance that HYDRA was still on the rise. SHIELD had done that, and look at where they were now.

He knew what they were capable of firsthand. He knew how dangerous they could be if they were left unchecked, if they were allowed to grow and fester in the shadows until it was too bad to handle and contain.

He wasn't going to let that happen again.

The man let out a sigh as he stole a glance away from the window and cast his gaze down at the ground below, where his teammates were either resting, training, or ambling restlessly to pass the time.

He just wished they could _understand._

Staring down at the broken group below him, it was obvious that something was missing. _Someone_ was missing. The same someone who could either lighten people's spirits, or drag them even further down by being such a deliberate asshole, and even then, he still managed to at least make someone _smirk._

Despite the torrent of hate and repressed anger that most of his teammates were holding for him, it was obvious that Tony was a crucial piece their machine was sorely missing, something that was taking a toll on all of them, on the Avengers name itself.

The worst part about all of it was that he knew it was him. _He_ was the reason this was all happening. Granted Tony wasn't exempt from blame, but Steve wasn't either. None of them were. Steve gave a small shake of his head as the regrettable actions morphed into even _more_ regrettable thoughts.

He should have listened. He should have reasoned. He should...he should have _stayed._

But he hadn't. _They_ hadn't. And the Avengers were taking a hit for it. Because they couldn't just sit down at talk to each other. The super soldier closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the wall. It sounded simple enough. Sit and listen for once, from both sides, and _maybe_ they'd have a chance of reviving everything they'd lost.

But Steve knew what would really happen.

They'd sit. They'd talk. The talking would turn to yelling. The yelling would turn to fighting. And the fighting would lead to an unfixable relationship rather than a broken one. IT was painful to think about, but it was true. When it came to the two men, Tony and Steve couldn't be more different other than the fact that their stubbornness was on an equal plane, which just made things worse.

So...maybe that was why Steve dreaded the thought of even getting _close_ to Tony. Cause as long as they stayed away from each other, they'd couldn't make it any worse. They couldn't hurt each other any more than they already had.

THe super soldier gave a small shake of his head, fingers twitching by his sides. He couldn't think about this. Not right now. Not when there was a mission that took priority, though in all honesty, he would have taken _anything_ to distract him from his previous thoughts.

Stealing one last glance down at his teammates, the man turned away and instead focused his gaze on the setting sun across the bay. He had a job to do. He had a duty to fufill. And nothing would stop him from completing it.

Not even Tony.

* * *

The bag caved slightly as his fist slammed into the rough, scratched leather surface. The chains hoisting it to the ceiling rattled loudly as it swung back slightly before diving toward him once more. Clint narrowed his eyes and drove his other fist in, tucking his arms close to his body as he repeated. Punch after punch; hit after hit. Sharp. Precise. Cut.

The sweat trickling down his temple made his skin crawl slightly, but wiping it away would have meant stopping, so he just gave a small shake of his head and kept going. He furrowed his brow, gritting his teeth as he punched harder.

His muscles tensed and snapped with each punch and lash, coiling tighter and tighter with each lunge. He could feel his knuckles beginning to peel, seeing as how he hadn't bothered in wrapping them before he'd started. He'd been too pissed off for that.

What the _fuck_ were they thinking? No - scratch that - they _weren't_ thinking! If they were, they never would have even _agreed_ to go on this suicide mission.

They were basing their whole operation, staking their entire setup, on...on a _hunch!_ They didn't even have all the facts and yet they were still gonna go and risk everything just because there was a _chance_ that it could lead to something bigger.

He slammed his knuckles against the hard leather.

No, all they were doing was putting themselves in even more danger. Being even more reckless than they already were, which was saying a lot.

He knew how much this meant to Steve. He knew how much the man had lost to this group, and he knew just how much it pained him to see that they were still active and fighting after everything he'd tried to do to prevent it, to stop it from ever happening again. But he _had_ to know that this wasn't going to do them any good! All it would do was endanger everything they were trying to accomplish. After all, it wasn't like they'd be able to do much to help from prison cells

Loud huffs fell from his lips as he pushed on, his chest heaving slightly at the added strain.

Like it or not, they were fugitives now. Criminals. The law was no longer on their side. _Nobody_ was on their side. The constant FBI surveillance patrols and Special-Ops teams constantly searching for their trails was evidence of this. Things could not be more tense, more _dangerous_ than they were not. Yet here they were, about to try once again to prove that they still had something to give!

The chains rattled loudly above his head, matching in time with each and every hit the bag took.

This wasn't _their_ job. Not anymore. Not when the punishment for getting caught was a lifetime locked away in a floating metal prison. Not when there were other, more _capable_ people who could actually do something about it. Not when there were people who _deserved_ to trouble themselves with dangers like this. Not when it risked him never seeing his loved ones again.

With a loud, final snarl, Clint hurled his fist into the bag, the leather walls buckling as it swung backwards haphazardly, chains squeaking obnoxiously as it rattled off in protest. Letting out a tired huff, the man stepped away from the bag as it swung back towards him, watching it glide past him before continuing on its swinging path.

The man simply stood there for a moment, watching the bag sway back and forth as he breathed heavily, dragging in large gulps of air as he curled and uncurled his fists, feeling each and every individual tear in his knuckles rip even more with each twitch. Reaching a hand up, he wiped away the trails of sweat pooling around his forehead, wincing slightly as some of the liquid dripped onto his scratches.

Turning away, he paused as he caught sight of Scott leaning in the doorway, casually eating chips out of an obnoxiously bright blue bag. Catching sight of Clint now staring at him, the man gave a small wave, crumbs sprinkled around his face.

The archer let out a small huff and rolled his eyes as he moved over towards the side of the small, cement room. "What do you want?" He muttered gruffly as he reached the long wooden table sitting up against one of the back walls. Plucking the small white towel off of the surface, he wiped it over his face and down his neck.

Scott gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Nothing. But, this is the closest thing to TV we got around here so..." He shook the bag of chips before grabbing another handful.

Clint stared at him for a moment longer before blowing a sigh past his lips. "Whatever." He muttered as he reached up and unhooked the sandbag from the ceiling hook. The weight dropped to the floor with a loud bang, the archer walking around it to grab onto the thick chain attached to the front. he tried to ignore the stares of the other man as he dragged the weight over to the back of the room.

Unfortunately, the fact that he was ignoring the man did not seem to be obvious enough as Scott cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey...can...can I ask you something?" He asked, his tone of voice reflecting his uncomfortableness with the situation.

Clint suppressed the urge to drag a hand down his face as he cocked his head, throwing the man an annoyed look. "What?" He huffed, his aggravations still having not left his body, despite the recent beating he'd just unleashed.

Scott rubbed the back of his neck as he began to speak, glancing over towards the side of the room. "So I was thinking about the mission later tonight. I...I still have some _major_ doubts about that, by the way. But, I was just thinking about all the things we've been doing recently and...and all the snooping and sneaking that's been going on, and..." He grimaced slightly. "And I was just wondering something that I've kinda never asked before. Do...do you think..." He trailed off for a moment before clearing his throat once again. "Do you think this is gonna blow over?" He finally asked.

Clint didn't turn to look at him as he moved back over towards the table, grabbing the towel once again. "I mean, don't get me wrong," Scott continued. "I know we kinda, like... _majorly_ broke the law." He puffed out a small huff of amusement that didn't seem to hold any real humor. "But...I mean-" His expression shifted, morphing into a look of unsuredness and slight desperation. "-you guys are like...the _Avengers._ You gotta have some pull _somewhere!"_ He gave a small shake of his head. "There's gotta be some way this can get fixed."

The archer's face twitched slightly as his furrowed eyebrows contorted even more. "That doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon." He uttered darkly, tone grim and cold.

Scott either didn't pick up on such a fact, or chose to ignore it. Clint was willing to bet on the former. "Well, we can't just be on the run forever. I mean, it's kinda not fair." Scott sighed, throwing his hands up in slightly frustration.

Clint's gaze remained locked on the table below him, his eyes hardening at the man's words. His fists clenched around the edge of the wooden surface, his knuckles beginning to whiten as he dug his nails into the old wood. The thick haze that had shrouded his mind whilst he'd unleashed his fury on the punching bag slowly began to creep back into the corners of his mind, growing sharper and darker with each word that spilled out of that idiot's mouth. At least he was right about _something._

It. Wasn't. Fair.

Their newest recruit placed his hands on his hips. "Cause, I don't know about the rest of you, but I kinda miss... _good food."_ He cracked a small smile. "Like, I haven't been to a Baskin Robbins in _forever,_ man." He sighed with a grin. "You know, I could probably still get us a discount if I talk-"

Clint slammed his fist down against the table, the wood splintering slightly under the blow as the man whirled around, Scott's words dying in his mouth as he stared back, wide-eyed at the archer, who's eyes blazed.

" _God,_ do you _ever_ take anything seriously?" He snapped, glaring back at him.

Scott cocked a brow, face scrunching slightly at the sudden rage. "I'm just trying to-" He started, only for Cling to cut him off.

"-make a joke out of _everything,_ like you always do." He growled, stalking closer. "Seriously, just do us all a favor and shut the _hell_ up for once." He snarled, fists shaking at his sides.

Scott's face instantly darkened as he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell, man?" He snapped, not understanding why the man was exploding on him all of a sudden. "I know you're pissed, but you don't have to be an ass about it." He growled, suddenly feeling a lot less cheerful than he had been a moment ago.

" _Pissed_?" Clint echoed. "Ho, no. I'm way past pissed. I'm fucking _furious_. And you waltzing around, babbling like an idiot isn't helping!" He snarled, shutting his eyes as a pained look marred his features for a flash. "I should be home, with my family." The look vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. "Instead, I'm here, staking everything on...on _suicide_ _missions_ , talking to some moron who shouldn't even _be_ here!"

"You know, _you're_ the ones that came to _me_." Scott snapped with a growl, fists clenching slightly. "This was _your_ fight, and you _dragged_ me into it! So obviously, I'm here for a reason."

Clint folded his arms over his chest. "We were desperate."

Scott let out a harsh scoff. "No, you're _still_ desperate. And you're angry." He tossed his hands up into the air. "And instead of dealing with it like everyone else around here is, you're just holding it in and exploding on the first person you see like a major douchebag." He snapped, pointed an accusatory finger at the archer before him. There was no way he was letting this _prick_ get away with talking to him like that.

However, before he could let anything else slip from his tongue, he quickly reigned himself up, sucking in a deep breath as he cut himself off from his next scathing remarks. Running a hand through his hair, the man let out a small sigh.

"Look...I get it. This...this sucks. Everything about this sucks. And...and I'll give it to you, I can be a bit of a handful." He let a small smirk fall onto his face for a brief moment. "But that's just how I cope."

Clint said nothing as he continued to glare down at the floor, silently seething in his own frustrations.

"I talk myself through it." The former burglar gave a small pause as he rubbed the back of his neck. "And then, I guess I just keep on talking, which I realize can get pretty annoying. But taking your frustrations out on your teammates isn't gonna help, man," he stressed.

" _You_ _staying_ _angry_ isn't gonna help."

The archer, once more, said nothing. He merely stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, something Scott could admit he'd never seen the man do before. He couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Judging from the look Clint gave him when he finally lifted his head back up he was willing to bet on the latter.

"Yeah, I'm angry." Clint spoke, voice dark and tone cold. "I'm angry...and I'm frustrated...and I'm desperate. You wanna know why?" He spoke softly, but his tone held no shortage of venom as it seemed to drip from each hate-spewed word. He slowly stalked forward. Scott slowly stepped back.

"Because this whole thing - this...this whole _feud_ , those suit-wearing _assholes_ , that titanium _fucker_ \- is keeping me away from my family." He spat, eyes blazing.

Scott swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

"My wife has no idea where I am. My children don't know why their father isn't coming home. My _baby_ _son_ doesn't know why I'm not there holding him!" He roared, the pain in his voice rubbing his throat raw as his eyes stung slightly.

"I don't care that you think I'm an ass. I don't care that you don't appreciate my methods." He stepped forward until he was only a few paces away from the other man, eyes narrowing. "All I care about right now it them. They are my life."

He leaned back, allowing Scott to breath once more as the man continued to stare back at him, barely revealing any sort of emotional clues as to how the words were affecting him. But that didn't deter the archer from continuing.

"I know this must be hard for you to comprehend seeing as how you have the attention span of a squirrel." He muttered with a roll of his eyes. "This split took something from all of us, but it took _everything_ from me." He clenched his fists once again. "So don't you try and lecture me about ' _dealing_ and _coping_ ', alright? Because you have _no_ _idea_ what this feels like!" He snarled, face flaring red as his words slashed through the air.

For a moment, all was quiet. The only sound in the room was the last dying echoes of the archer's final cries. Scott said nothing. He simply stared the man straight in the eyes, face calm and body rigid.

Finally, the man slowly took a few paces forward, glancing down at the ground as he licked his lips. Clint raised a brow, but didn't move.

Faster than any of them could anticipate, Scott's hand was in the air, his fist slamming into Clint's jaw, sending the archer's head whipping to the side at the powerful impact.

Ignoring the harsh stinging in his jaw, Clint reached for his belt and wrapped his fingers around the knife stashed away there, poised to draw it out.

However, Scott made no more moves to attack, the tenseness in his body seeming to dissipate right alongside the punch. Instead, the man seemed much more...tired. Defeated.

Walking closer, Scott reached into his back pocket, making Clint tighten his grip on the knife, only to grunt as a small, square piece of paper was jammed against his chest.

The archer glanced down for a brief second before his eyes flashed up to meet Scott's, which were red around the rims and slightly glossy. But it was blatantly obvious the amount of rage and despair locked behind them. When he finally spoke, his voice was hard, nothing like the man that had begun the conversation.

"Her name is Cassie. And _she's_ the life you all took away from me."

Without another word, Scott turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Clint to the cold, cramped surroundings, the man's last words echoing in his ears. For a moment, all he did was stare, the burning fire that had been crackling in his chest slowly dwindling. Sucking in a small breath, the man ran his fingers along the edges of the photo and glanced down.

It was obviously old, the crinkled edges and darkened smudges evidence enough of such a fact. But it didn't mar the subject of the actual photo, which was of a little girl, around eight-years-old. She had long brown hair that drooped down past her shoulders and a beaming smile that stretched from cheek to cheek, eyes crinkled in joy.

The bitter taste of the words that had spewn from his mouth seemed to taint his tongue. In his fury, it was as if his mind had released all of its restraints, throwing out whatever insult, threat or curse he'd been holding in for what felt like forever, no reasoning, no thought behind _any_ of it.

The thought of his children growing without him there to see it, his baby son forgetting of his very _existence_ , the idea that if anything were to happen, he wouldn't be there to protect them, it had all been too much. And the fire crackling in his heart, the burning rage that had masked and hidden such fears had boiled over, crashing into the other man without even a moment's notice.

But now that such fury was gone...the full force of his words was hitting him blow after blow.

The man stared down at the photo, gently smoothing out the wrinkles in silence. ' _You have no idea what this feels like!'_

It couldn't be farther from the truth.

Letting out a long sigh, Clint ran a hand down his face and folded the picture up once again. He cast the punching bag behind him one last glance before stepping out of the room.

It didn't take long to find Scott, for he was where he always was. In the back corner of the warehouse, distant from all the others, the man had set up an old, beat-up mattress along the back wall, a single shattered window resting on the wall adjacent to it, the dwindling sunlight streaming in softly. He sat atop the mattress, back pressed up against the wall as his wrists rested atop his propped-up knees, face resigned and sullen.

The archer hesitated for a moment, something he'd assumed had been trained out of him years ago. Hesitation meant missing your window. It meant missing your target. It meant failing your mission. Yet despite the mantra rolling through his brain, he still felt himself hold back for a second. HE shifted his jaw, wincing slightly at the sharp pang that shot through it.

Steeling himself, the man moved forward.

Scott made no indication of noticing him as he approached. He didn't even look at him as Clint leaned down and sat on the mattress next to him. For a moment, the two men said nothing. They merely stared up at the shattered window above, the distant sound of water and screeching birds echoing around them.

Clint let out a small sigh as he ran a finger over the folded picture one last time before handing it to Scott. The man glanced down at it before gently reaching up grasping it softly before unfolding it, staring down at it himself. He still said nothing.

Clint watched him for a moment before letting his head rest against the cold concrete behind them. "She has your smile."

Scott blinked for a moment before letting out a small scoff. "Yeah, with the snark to go with it." He chuckled softly, fingers delicately tracing the edges of the picture.

"How old is she now?"

The man gave a small huff as a smile graced his lips, eyes misting slightly. "She just turned nine." His face grew pained, the smile forced. "It was the first full birthday I'd gotten to spent with her in the last three years." He murmured softly.

Clint shut his eyes tightly, massaging the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. "Listen, Scott. What I said back there...I... I didn't mean all that shit. I was just-"

Scott waved him off before he could finish. "Hey, don't worry about it." The man said softly. "I get it. Contrary to what you might believe, I _do_ know what you're going through." The man gave a small smile. "You actually kinda remind me of Cassie. When she was five, the cable box blew and we had no TV for about a week." The man let out a loud laugh. "Man, she was crawling the walls. I was actually surprised so much anger could fit inside that tiny little body."

Clint didn't share in the man's cheer. In fact, he stared back at him with an unreadable expression before he shut his eyes once again. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Scott echoed, raising a brow.

Clint's eyes drifted back over to him. "How do you stay so...calm, so-so _relaxed_ through all this?" He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath from his lips. "I...I've been on missions before. I've been away from my family before. Weeks, months at a time I'd be gone. And...and I could handle it because...because I knew I'd see them again." The archer blinked and stared down at the floor, eyes hard. "Despite whatever horror, whatever asshole we were taking down that week, I knew I would see them." His fingers curled. "I would do _whatever_ it took to see them. And...and I was fine."

"But this? I just...I have no idea what's gonna happen. The Accords...Stark...everything's...it...

"Everything's kinda shit right now." Scott finished.

Clint furrowed his brows. "To put it mildly." He muttered. "I don't know whether we'll have to stay on the run forever or if we'll be arrested eventually and sent back to the raft but...either way means I never see my family again. And I just... can't do that. I _can't_ think about that without..." He stopped when his voice wavered slightly. He cleared his throat harshly before picking up once again. "So how are you so... _alright?"_

It felt strange saying what he'd been feeling out loud for the first time in...well, in a long time. What he'd said was true. He'd been on millions of missions. And sure, some were harder than others. Some were...some were _really_ bad, and there were always times where you just _had_ to talk about what you'd seen. Id didn't matter if you were the hardest, toughest person alive. If you could see some of the things that he had seen, holding it in would not seem to be an option.

Of course, Clint couldn't really describe himself as the most " _open"_ person, especially when it came to personal stuff. Usually, he would go to Natasha for such matters. She was the person he trusted more than _anyone_ on the team, maybe even one of the people he trusted most in his _life,_ excluding his wife, of course.

And yet, for some reason, he just couldn't see himself talking to the woman about this. He knew he could trust her with it. Hell, Sott didn't even _know_ his family. Natasha did. But...but despite how close they were, despite how well she knew his family, Natasha...couldn't _understand_. She could sympathize, but she couldn't feel what he was feeling. She couldn't know what he was thinking.

Scott did.

He was the only other person on the team who had the same gaping hole sitting in his stomach, pressing on his chest and gripping his lungs in a vice-grip. He was the only person who truly had something to lose that was more precious than _their_ actual lives.

Scott understood.

But what made Clint feel worse was that he'd doubted Scott's feelings. He'd accused him of not understanding when he was the _only_ one who really could. Scott knew about Clint's family, and Clint had never once stopped to ask about Scott's. He'd never even thought about it.

Considering all this, Clint was pretty sure he would have punched himself too if he'd been Scott.

Speaking of, the man - who'd been staying quiet in thought for a moment or two - finally spoke.

"Well...' _alright'_ isn't the word I'd use but...I just...have a lot of practice with this." He sighed. "I don't know if you guys know this, I mean, you're the Avengers, so you probably don't take your background checks very lightly or whatever but, back in 2012, I kinda...did some shit." He muttered. "Stole some stuff I wasn't supposed to; did some things that weren't allowed and...I got booked."

He ran a hand through his hair, face resigned and tired. "I was sentenced to three years. And you know..." He angled his head towards Clint." ...the biggest problem I had wasn't that all the guys looked like they could take on Cap over there and give him a run for his money. It wasn't that the toilets looked like a bunch of five-year-olds did arts and crafts with scrap metal to make them. And it wasn't even that the food looked like glue mixed with whatever shit they found in the arts and crafts toilets."

Clint couldn't help but scoff at that.

"No...it was that my wife refused to allow Cassie to visit me. I had to go three years without seeing my daughter."

The archer stared back at him for a moment before blinking in shock. "God...how did you do it?" He breathed, not even able to imagine going so long without seeing his family.

Scott gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "I guess, ironically, it was her. Cassie was the reason I was able to survive because she was my incentive _to_ survive."

Clint said nothing. Scott glanced down at the picture in his hands, a small passive smile gracing his lips.

"I figured, after all the shit I put her through, the least I could do was make sure she'd still have a worth-while father when I got out. So, I pushed through it. I focused on her and only her." He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "So...I guess I have a little practice with this feeling. I know what it's like to leave the people you love, worrying about whether they're okay and when you'll see them again."

He waved the picture slightly. "But, as long as I have this, as long as she's still out there, I have a reason to fight." And in that moment, Scott's face morphed into a look of such determination that Cling almost had to do a double-take. She sheer seriousness on the man's face made him blink as Scott stared straight at him. "And I swear to **God** , I'm not gonna stop. And neither should you."

Clint stared back at him for a moment before turning away, staring down at the ground as he licked his lips. "When I, uh...when I left, Cooper was still struggling with his Algebra. I...I promised to help him study for his big test at the end of the quarter." His voice wavered slightly. He didn't bother in clearing it. "L-Lila's been recording the episodes to this new show she's been crazy about." The man smiled, his eyes glossy and misty. "I don't even know what it's about. Ponies, princesses? Still, she recorded them so that we could watch them together." The words cracked as his hands curled into fists against his knees.

"And...Nathaniel, my youngest, was...w-was just starting to...t-to stand on his own. H...He's gonna start walking...and...and I'm...not gonna be there. I'm not gonna be there to catch him on the other side of the room. I just-"

He couldn't finish as the words were swallowed up, his throat closing as a few stray tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, his hand going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He didn't even care anymore. He didn't care that in all his days of working in the field, he'd never once shed a tear. He didn't care that he was being so emotionally vulnerable in front of a man he didn't even know considered him a friend. He didn't care...because it was his _family._

For a moment, the two men said nothing, the silence engulfing the pair as the last few traces of light began to disappear behind the horizon, the sky melting into a pool of deep blue, faded pinks and glossy purples, the last traces of orange and red fading.

"I'm not saying this is easy." Scott finally spoke. Clint cleared his throat and stared hard at the ground. "I mean, Cassie's not the only one I left. My..." He paused, seemingly unsure of himself for a moment. "My... _friend_ , Hope probably didn't even know this happened until she saw my name being plastered on the news. I only hope Cassie didn't find out that way."

He took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself before continuing. "Still, there's only one thing we can do. There's only one thing _you_ can do. We stick together, we don't back down, and we _keep_ fighting. And I promise you, I _promise_ you, I am going to make sure you get home to catch your son when he greets you at the front door." He placed a hand on Clint's shoulder, flashing the man a confident smile, eyes mirroring the pain flashing in Clint's.

The archer stared back at him for a moment before giving a small smile of his own. "I'll make sure it's not another three years before you see her again."

The two men nodded before turning away, each staring out at the darkening sky as the echoes of the distant city echoed faintly, the soft lapping of water drifting into the warehouse.

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

"We should form a club."

"No."

"Like, ' _Dads United',_ or something."

"You're ruining the moment."

"We can get T-Shirts printed! Ooh! Ooh! Come up with a cheesy dad joke and we can put it on the back!"

"It's ruined."

* * *

 **Thursday - March 31, 2016**

 **Mackview Shipping and Storage Center**

 **10:05 p.m.**

The moon hung high overhead, silvery wisps of light bouncing off the waves below in a trail of melted silver mixing with the ink black of the bay water. The stars lay covered behind a thick veil of smog and clouds, the moon pulling back the curtain just enough to cast a bright glow.

The soft sounds of waves lapping up against the sides of the docks filled the air, muffled only slightly by the distant sound of whirring metal and the even fainter scuffle of footsteps racing along the rooftops of the lined up storage facilities.

The shadowed figures crouched low to the roof, nearly concealed except for the slight shine of the silhouettes the moon cast upon them. They leapt across the remaining rooftops before stopping atop the one building in the center of the row, the largest of the five others. They silently crept to the center of the rooftop, where a transparent glass portion of the ceiling allowed them a clear view of the area below.

Conveyor belts that should have long since been deactivated were active and running, gleaming metal parts and circuits cruising atop the metallic surfaces. Large cranes lifted up huge wooden crates and deposited them to certain corners of the room and high-tech guns of various sizes and makes were being loaded into said boxes by near two dozen men and women. It was hard to miss the bright glow of the weapons, the advancements installed in each obviously not from Earth.

"So...I'm guessing this is the place."

The others glanced over at Scott, who shrugged his shoulders. "Just making sure."

Cap glanced back down at the workers before resting his fingertips against the comm unit in his ear. "Any movement, Falcon?"

There was a moment of silence before the transmission broke through on the rest of their comms. " _Negative. No outer forces moving in. If anyone's coming to relieve these guys, it won't be for a while."_ He responded, Cap stealing a small glance towards the distant storage crates near the docks, where Sam stood on lookout.

The man nodded. "Alright, just keep us posted. We can't afford any mishaps here."

" _Copy."_

Steve raised his head to glance back at the others, silently asking if they were ready.

Natasha rested her hand against the top of her gun, cocking it in preparation as she fiddled with another strapped to her side.

Scott pressed a button near his neck and the helmet to his suit folded over his face, the lenses glaring bright red in the light of the moon overhead.

Clint raised his bow and gripped an arrow from behind his head, resting it on the top of his curled finger as the string began to shiver with each movement of his hand.

Wanda narrowed her eyes, the irises instantly glowing a bright crimson red as her hands lit with the same energy, the ground around them shining slightly with the bright light emanating from her.

Cap raised his hands slightly and pressed a trigger installed into the sides of his gloves. Instantly, the metallic bands wrapping around his forearm disbanded and raised up to form twin long gray shields that stretched from the tips of his elbows to cover his hands. He had still yet to get used to the new weapons T'Challa had bestowed him in place of his usual red and blue alternative, but it was better than nothing.

Their answers were clear. Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Let's move."

* * *

The men milled about unperturbed, going about their usual business of unloading and packing boxes, checking newly crafted weapons and inspecting them for shipment. The sounds of machinery filled and air as well as the soft whirring of the conveyor belts around the room.

One man moved away from the machines and picked up a stray clipboard laying one one of the remaining crates, flipping through the pages as he narrowed his eyes. In his concentration, he took no notice of the soft thump of a body hitting the ground near the back of the warehouse, nor did any of the other men. Two more thugs went down in silent heaps without any notice, their disappearances flying past the radar.

In fact, it wasn't until one of the nearby machines fizzled and exploded did they finally take notice that something was amiss. The stray arrow attached to the now-steaming metal made them all freeze.

Glass shattered above their heads as Captain America exploded from the rooftop, the sharp shards raining down around them as he landed on one man's shoulders, the figure folding like wet paper as the soldier rolled along the ground and rammed his fist into the chest of another thug, sending him flying backwards where he hit the wall hard, a clear difference than going straight _through_ the wall, had the soldier not been holding back.

Hawkeye and Witch were next as they shot through one of the warehouse windows in a burst of crimson light, arrows draw and hands clenched.

Widow revealed her position behind one of the larger crates as she leapt over and wrapped her legs round the nearest man dragging him down to the floor as she jabbed her wrist against the side of his neck, sparks of electricity exploding from the minuscule taser. The closest man whipped out his gun and aimed it at her, only to gasp and watch as the gun was suddenly jerked out of his hands, his neck snapping backwards as an unseen force punched him in the chin. Ant-Man suddenly appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, ramming his foot into the man's face, knocking him unconscious.

For a moment, a wave of silence rang out through the warehouse as everyone froze, eyes locking onto eyes, muscles coiling in either shock or preparation. The whirring of machines died down to a soft droning in the background.

Instantly the stupor shattered as the men lunged for their guns, whipping them out as fast as they could, the building exploding into a cacophony of noise before anyone could blink.

Cap narrowed his eyes and brought his shields up just as a handful of bullets shot towards him, the dull sound of them making contact with the metal before dimly falling to the floor briefly met his ears for a split second as he made up the distance between him and the assailants, his fists shooting out faster than the bullets.

He felt one man's ribs crack as he rammed past him, groans of pain filling the air as he crouched low to the ground, sweeping the feet of the nearest thug before throwing his falling body towards another, the two rolling along the ground as he leapt over a third, bringing his elbow down onto his shoulders, a resounding crack meeting his ears.

Raising his shields to block another round of bullets, the man grabbed hold of one of the nearby hand rails along the wall and swung himself around it, feet connecting with the shoulders of another man, who flew backwards at the force of the hit.

More shots rang out as another pair of goons filed towards him, his shields instantly going up once more as he blocked himself off from the impending projectiles. as he covered himself from the barrage of bullets, one of the two thugs lunged for the nearby conveyor belt, grabbing hold of one of the newly made guns, a holder with an unusually large barrel that split off into four separate branches.

Without even a second thought, the man pulled the trigger. The backlash from the force sent his arm jerking to the side, along with the projectile of the gun's aim. A bright flare of blue light shot from the weapon, hitting a couple of filled crates, the boxes levitating up into the air as the gun raised back up, the crates following the movements of the barrel.

The man stared at the now hovering boxes while his partner continued to fire upon Cap, the man's eyes widening slightly at the now flying crates. However, the sound of a clicking trigger and the cease of loud bangs of gunshots dragged him back to reality. "Shit." The thug cursed before his partner swung the gun forward, the boxes following in his motions as they shot towards Cap.

He narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on the shields in hand as he leapt into the air, feet pushing against the closest box, launching him onto the next. Wrapping his hands around the sides, he reached for the next one, leg flying out as his foot connected with the final crate. The force of the kick sent the box shooting towards the two men, who screamed as it connected full force, sending them flying across the room, the weapons stored inside scattering everywhere.

The man rushed towards the box, grabbing one of the newly broken wooden planks from the sides as he ran alongside another group of men, whipping the plank forward, where it connected with the back of one person's head, sending them toppling to the ground. There, he leapt forward, sliding along the ground as he caught the leg of another, dragging him down while also twisting around back onto his feet before kicking the knee of another man, the sharp crack that followed eliciting an shrill shriek of pain that was instantly silenced as Cap threw a punch to the side of the man's head.

Pressing his hands against the cold concrete ground, Cap thrust himself upwards, feet connecting with the chin of another man, who reeled backwards, staggering into another oncoming pair of thugs, the group toppling to the ground together.

A sudden sharp whine filled the air as the man's eyes caught sight of a harsh glow. Glancing back, he noticed a woman holding one of the newly crafted weapons, the sides lighting up brightly as it charged up.

Cap ducked down as the charge shot over his head, the noise blaring through the air like a sonic cannon as the blast ripped straight through the wall behind him.

He narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his shields, sprinting forward. He twisted around the oncoming blasts, pausing to lift up his shield as a particularly strong blast tore through the air. He could feel the heat from the blast pressing against the metal of the barriers attached to his wrists, his feet sliding against the floor, his teeth gritting together as he fought against the beam currently driving him back. The air around him seemed to crackle and pop at the electricity and energy emanating from the beam. It almost reminded him of the same feel that Wanda's energy put out.

Narrowing his eyes, the man gave one final push of his shields before dropping to the floor, the beam shooting past overhead. Twisting around the oncoming blasts, he slid along the floor and ducked underneath another shot, ramming the woman in the chest with his shields before snatching the gun out of her hands, tripping her off her feet before knocking her out with another blow from the metallic bands.

He resisted the urge to crush the weapon right then, for he had no idea the kind of backlash such a dangerously charged device could release. He briefly thought back to Tony, realizing the man could probably have a reading out for them within a split second.

In his distraction, Cap never noticed as another goon reloaded and took aim at the back of his head. The sound of a loud scream of pain met his ears, causing him to whirl around, fists curled, only to pause as he caught sight of Natasha standing over a now unconscious form. She threw him an unamused glance. "Get your head in the game." She muttered before pulling out her gun, firing a couple shots before moving back into the fray.

She felt someone grab her from behind, large arms resting around her neck as the grip tightened. She wrapped her hands around their wrists and ducked down, flipping the man onto the floor in front of her as she laced a short cord around his neck, the sound of choked gurgling reaching her ears as she looped around and kicked back another pair of guys lunging for her.

Releasing her hold on the now limp body, she raced along the edge of the room and skidded past another two guards, releasing two small disks as she slid past, the huge burst of electrical charge running up their legs as they fell to their knees, the woman ramming her elbows into the sides of their heads before leaving the still bodies.

Pulling her guns out once more, the woman began to go on the offensive, covering whoever the thugs were taking aim at, incapacitating them before they could even let off any shots. The sound of distant cries of pain and choked off screams were the only indication of her hitting her targets as she fired. She noticed another large group of thugs lining up along the catwalks above their heads, guns drawn at they took aim on the heroes fighting below them.

Widow narrowed her eyes as she pocketed her guns once more, moving along the shadowed edges of the room where she wrapped her hands around the rusted metal of the ladder leading up to the walkway.

Quickly and quietly racing up it, she crouched low to the ground and charged the group, extending out another short cord as she slid underneath their legs, wrapping the steel-laced wires around their legs before pulling taut. Three of the thugs came crashing down while the remaining handful aimed their guns at her.

Instantly taking note of the cramped quarters of the catwalk, Natasha wrapped her hands around the thick wires attaching the walkway to the ceiling and looped around it, dodging the bullets as she swiped her foot at the nearest goon, the man letting out a startled shout as he toppled over the edge of the railing.

The remaining two didn't have time to react as the woman leapt over their heads and wrapped her legs around their necks, dragging them down to the ground where she attached another round of electrodes to their shoulders, bright sparks of electricity exploding into the air as they seized on the ground the woman gripping the previous wires tightly as she slid down them towards the ground below, rolling expertly along the stained ground before pulling out her pistols once again.

The woman let out a grunt as she felt someone ram the but of their gun against her chin, her head snapping back painfully as she reeled backwards. Eyes narrowing, the woman took notice of the lady now glaring at her, hair tied back as she threw her a disgusted snarl. She also noticed the shining gun tightly gripped in her hands, the _glowing_ gun.

A small grunt fell from her lips as Natasha dropped to the ground, avoiding the sharp blast of the gun as the lady fired upon her. Placing her hand on the ground, Widow twisted her legs around and caught the woman in the back of the knees, dragging her to the ground.

However, instead of folding, the woman dropped onto her knees instead and whipped back around, driving her elbow forward. Natasha caught the limb as it flew out, pushing back against it as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a sharp, serrated knife, whipping it forward.

The woman reeled backwards as the weapon flashed before her, her hands reaching for the gun in her possession. Widow wrapped her free hand around the woman's shoulders as she dragged her down once again, the knife slashing along the woman's wrists as she reached for her gun once again.

She screamed out in pain and gave one final shove, knocking the woman off of her as she rolled along the ground and grabbed her gun once again, the sharp familiar whine filling the air as she let off a huge blast. Widow dove to the ground as the shot fired overhead, her grip on the knife tightening. Rushing forward, the woman ducked underneath the oncoming jab and rammed her shoulder into the woman's gut. The woman shot out a choked breath right as Natasha made a grab for the gun.

Wrestling it out of the woman's hands, Natasha shot a punch forward, her fist connecting with the center of the woman's face as her head snapped backwards. The woman didn't even watch as the thug crumpled to the ground, for she was already looking for her next target.

The woman barely even flinched as an arrow whisked past her face, an explosion sending wood chips and splinters flying from behind her, screams echoing out as the smoke shot forward. She caught sight of Clint standing atop a pile of crates in the corner of the room, face hard and eyes narrowed as he loosed another arrow, the projectile shooting across the room faster than she could follow.

The archer fired another once the previous shot hit its mark, his next target consisting of a group of machines still working in the corner of the room. The man reached behind him and pulled out a handful of connected arrows, placing all three against the taught string of his bow.

The sharp whistle that slashed through his ears as he released filled the air for a brief moment before the projectiles hit their mark, flashes of light illuminating the air as the metal machines parked and crackled before dying down, extended limbs dropping towards the floor as their electrical charges fizzled out.

Hawkeye reached behind him once again, only to wince as he heard a bullet whiz right past his ear, ducking down instinctively before leaping off of the boxes, breaking towards the group currently taking aim at him.

After a split-second analysis of the situation, the man dropped his bow and ripped his knife out from its holster around his waist, the weapon much more equipped for close-quarters fighting.

The thugs raised their guns, bullets hailing down around him as the man leapt forward and rolled along the ground, slashing the knife upwards through the air as the serrated edge sliced through one of the men's arms, blood spurting into the air.

He screamed out in pain, the sound instantly being cut off as Hawkeye swept his legs out from underneath him and rammed his knee into the man's chin, effectively knocking him out before dropping his limp body back onto the floor, kicking it forward as it threw the other three goons off balance.

Reaching into his belt, the man tightly grasped onto three flat metal prongs, hurling them forward, where they embedded themselves into the men's arms and shoulders, not deep enough to be fatal, but serious enough to elicit shouts and screams of shock and pain.

Utilizing the momentary distraction, the man raced along the ground, whisking up his bow as he ran and twirled it around in his hands, hands running along the metal edges as the bow melded back into a plain, long bow-staff.

Spinning the weapon over his head, the man swung it forward, the metal catching the back legs of one thug while ramming into the shoulder of another, digging the metal pins in deeper than before. Blood dripped onto the concrete, smearing across the ground as the men stepped and slid in it.

Thwacking one man in the head while conking out another woman, Hawkeye twisted the last man's arm behind his back before driving him down to the ground, foot colliding with the side of his head before his body went still.

The archer whipped the staff hard, the metal transforming back into that of his normal bow. He reached behind him and gripped another arrow, eyes scanning the warehouse for any signs of his teammates in distress.

Across the room, Clint could just make out Ant Man seeming to appear out of nowhere as he punched a man out before disappearing once again right as another woman tried to attack him from behind.

She whipped around wildly, trying to make out the man's presence, only for her arm to twist around behind her back all of a sudden as the man reappeared, driving his elbow into her shoulder, effectively driving her down.

Loud pops and shots fro the nearby gunmen rang out, an approaching group firing heavily on the man who seemed to keep disappearing and reappearing. Ant Man shrunk down right as the bullets shot forward. Despite not being able to see the man, the group continued to fire, hoping to blindly hit the man out of pure luck.

Suddenly, one man's gun was knocked from his hands, the weapon clattering down around his feet, followed by another and another until all their guns were either knocked away or destroyed. Before any of them could whip out any more weapons, Scott grew before their eyes, fists flying out faster than they could counter, the group falling to the floor as they clutched broken noses or nurses shattered jaws.

The familiar crackling of the comms rang in their ears as Clint's voice broke through. _"Ant Man, you see that big machine over there in the corner?"_ He asked, said man glancing behind him as he dodged another attack. "Yeah, what about it?"

 _"I think the exterior is impervious to my arrows' electrical currents, I can't get it to shut down."_

The man nodded. "Say no more." He called back before pressing a small button on the side of his helmet, mind instantly focusing as he'd been trained to do. Not even a second later, a large Carpenter ant landed before him, wings extended as its antennas twitched.

Wasting no time, the man leapt up onto the bug's back as the familiar buzz of their rapid wings filled his ears, the ground disappearing from sight as they took off.

It only took a few seconds for Ant Man to locate the machine that Hawkeye had been talking about. It was obviously the biggest one out of the other machines, most likely the most important one as well, which would explain why it was proving to be so difficult to disable it.

Leaping off of his ant right as they flew above the machine, the man tucked his legs underneath him as he rolled along the metal surface, cushioning his fall slightly as he took off running, eyes scanning the metal paneling for any sort of cracks or lines that could mean his way in.

Finally, Scott caught sight of a break in the metal between the panels and the wiring. Narrowing his eyes, the man leapt forward, sliding in between the panels easily before landing down between the wires and the circuit panels. Slowly lowering his arms, the man cautiously glanced around, movements purposely slow as to not trip anything that might make the entire machine explode. After all, he _was_ kinda... _inside_ of it.

His heart beat wildly in his chest, his adrenaline still spiked high and dangerous. He ran his hands along the wires tracking the walls of the circuits, glancing at the outlets they connected to and the slight sparks of electricity that ran through them.

Taking a deep breath, the man tightly gripped one of the wires before giving a hard yank, the machine jerking violently for a moment before falling still once more. He could still feel the vibrations of the motor underneath his feet. It was still active. Taking hold of another two wires ,the man let out a grunt as he ripped them away from the sides as well, the machine letting out a loud whine and fritz as the vibrations increased for a second before dying away altogether.

The man smiled behind his mask before climbing out of the metal paneling once again. "Machines are down." He called over the comms as he hooked an arm around his ant once more and hoisted himself up, the ant taking to the skies once again.

Wanda barely paused in her movements as Scott's voice rang out through the transmission, her hands twisting out in front of her as she hoisted two men into the air and slammed them together, loud grunts falling from their lips as they collided before promptly being thrown back down to the ground.

THe continuous ringing of gunshots firing across the building made it difficult to deduce when a particular shot was being aimed at you, which was why Wanda didn't notice the guns being drawn on her until one bullet grazed her shoulder, the heat of the metal burning her skin as it ripped through her clothes.

The girl whipped around and caught sight of the group trailing their guns on her, pistols raised and hands shaking as they watched their numbers begin to die down around the room. Wanda's eyes narrowed as a slight reddish glow began to emanate from her irises.

With a grit of her teeth, the girl propelled herself off of the ground, hovering in the air as she fired down upon the group, spirals of crimson energy raining down around them faster than any bullets they hd previously fired, explosions of red-tinged light blinding the thugs as they shielded themselves from the heat swirling around them.

The girl curled her fingers into a fist, the energy trails trailing around them suddenly constricting as they grabbed hold of the group, hurdling them together into a tight circle. Wanda extended her palms fired another single shot at the group, the projectile exploding out around them, knocking them out instantly as they all collapsed to the floor.

Wanda dove back down to the ground as more bullets rang in the air. She landed on the ground near another group and opened her hands, slamming them together as a shockwave of crimson light shot forward, knocking the group off of their feet.

She high-pitch charge of a new weapon caught her ears, the same sound that had been ringing out around the building throughout the fight. The girl ducked to the ground right as a bright green shot fired straight over her head, destroying the roof above them. Showers of concrete and debris littered the floor as it fell, the girl's eye catching sight of the man currently wielding a large weapons resembling a bazooka, only smaller and more compact.

The girl steadied her feet as she faced off against the man, fists curling at her sides as pools of energy dripped down towards her fingertips, the barrel of the gun lighting up in green fire as it readied to shoot.

The click of a trigger was Wanda's only warning before the gun fired, a steady beam of green energy charging forward. LIfting her hands up, the girl countered with a blast of her own, green and red colliding together in an explosion of white light as the two beams fought one another for dominance.

Wanda could feel her feet sliding against the concrete as the beams pushed her back, her eyes narrowing into slits as her teeth gritted together, a loud grunt passing past her lips as she shouldered the full force of the attack, her hands shaking slightly as she took a step forward, driving her shoulders down as she fought back. Step by step, the girl began to gain more ground on her opponent as the red beam began to eat up more and more of the green.

As she attacked, she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye.

Another shadowed figure stood near the corner of the warehouse, only he seemed much smaller than the other thugs and goons that were currently dropping like flies, even if his attire was the same. As the figure inched his way along the back wall, Wanda was just able to make out his face, instantly recognizing the features of a teenager, no older than eighteen. The boy stared at her, eyes wide and lips parted as his frantic eyes glanced over towards the emergency exit. He cast the room one last glance before disappearing out the back door.

The girl's first instinct was to go after him, realizing that leaving even _one_ person free could jeopardize their entire mission, but a particularly strong push from the gun's blast had her mind focusing back onto the present.

Finally, with one last thrust of her hands, the energy swirling from her hands engulfed the blast from the gun, encompassing both the weapon and the man, who shouted in pain at the scalding sear of her energy wrapping around him.

Cutting off the attack, the girl watched as the man crumpled to the ground, the smoking remains of his gun clattering in pieces around him.

Taking a second to catch her breath, Wanda glanced around as she realized she could actually _hear_ the sharp intakes of her breath, something she hadn't been able to do while the battle was at full peak. Glancing around as she took notice of the unusual calm, she realized that there were no thugs left to take down. The room was full of writhing bodies or still forms, smoking machines and cracked holes in the walls of the building. The remaining Avengers stood scattered around the room, inspecting their work or the weapons lying around the room.

Nobody looked seriously injured. The girl let out a small breath at that.

Her teammates stepped over scattered bodies as they met up in the center, Cap stooping down to pick up one of the weapons. The metal casing was blackened and burnt, but the alien tech infused inside still let out a faint purple glow. The man narrowed his eyes. "Damn.." He muttered, having still held onto hope that perhaps the rumors had been wrong.

"How many more do you think they have?" Scott asked, flipping the visor of his helmet up to reveal his worried face.

Natasha gave a small shake of her head as she snapped her pistol back into its holster. "After the Chitari invasion, there was alien tech scattered all across the city. There's no telling how much these guys got their hands on, but judging from this I'd say it's enough to cause us some trouble."

Clint let out a grunt. "Great, cause we can't seem to get enough of that." He snapped, strapping his bow to his back once again.

The sound of distant sirens faintly reached their ears, making the all snap back to attention. Sam's voice filtered in through the comms. "Guys, you might wanna wrap this up. We're gonna have some company in a couple minutes. Five top."

Wanda snapped back to reality as she turned towards Cap. "There was another criminal near the back of the warehouse, a boy. He go away before I could stop him." She sighed, voice revealing her frustrations.

The others shared concerned looks, realizing that such a mistake could lead to their reveal. Steve glanced behind him at the back of the warehouse, the faint light of flashing red and blue lights making him narrow his eyes as he turned back towards the girl, resting a hand on her shoulder. "We'll worry about that later. But we're not done here yet."

The girl stared hard at him for a moment before giving a slight nod of her head. It didn't take long for the others to round up the unconscious or disarmed thugs, collecting them in the center of the room. The men who were still conscious glared at the heroes, teeth grinding as they shot venomous looks at the rogues.

"We've seen your faces!" One man snapped. "You better let us go or we'll tell them cops everything! We'll tell everyone!" He grinned.

The remaining Avengers shared looks as Wanda stepped forward, trails of crimson energy beginning to pool in her hands as her eyes began to mist over in red light. As her fingertips began to twitch, the red mist slowly began to encircle the men, reaching long tendrils of energy towards their eyes. Natasha gave a small smirk from where she stood. "Tell them _what_ exactly?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Somehow, I don't think you'll find it quite so easy to _remember_ what happened here."

Wanda's face grew hard as she glared down at the group, who were now staring at her with wide eyes as they were encircled by her energy. She narrowed her eyes. "And you won't be telling anyone _anything."_ She growled before the room exploded in crimson light.

* * *

 **Hmm...well that sure was interesting, huh? So... how you been?**

 **Yeah, yeah I know what you're gonna say. Where were you? You're not dead! Why haven't you uploaded chapters at least twice every weekend you little shit!**

 **...Alright none of you said that cause all you lovelies are just too nice and understanding to pull some shit like that but my point still stands. So, listen. I'm not gonna make excuses for why this is so late. I already explained to you in my previous chapters that my work schedule was increasing and that I would only be able to write minimally and guess what?**

 **I WAS RIGHT!**

 **So I apologize for how late this chapter is. I can't make promises about when the next chapter will be out, but I promise I will always be working on it. So you can all be reassured that I haven't given up!**

 **PS I DON'T HATE CLINT!**

 **Okay, I know i was a little harsh with him, but I'm just writing him how I'd imagine he'd be dealing with all this shit. Plus, I always feel that Clint and the rogue gang never gets quite enough development in these stories, so I wanted to fix that by giving you his thoughts and feelings on the entire ordeal. The rest of** **the** **rogues will be coming up in future chapters. I would have put them here, but you would have had to wait another month for a** **release** **.**

 **Anyway, no point in dawdling. Thanks to all these people for favoriting and/or following: _I'mConfusedAgain, LenkaJeneva, ShuBu, Azera-v, Alaina Ross, RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley, Foxtorf64, mcnooties, A Process of Thought, KoniK47, tobi-mentally insane, Harukanee26, bribri1300, jinxiepops, PrincessKairi818, , FictionJuncion, Chironista, Gwntan12, IDontWannaGo, Little Miss Invisible, Valentiarose, .S, Erk92, Thebookworm33, eNervFlinC, Nywroc, emmy101701, Notyourtypicalprincess86, aarmauthebest, snowdragon27, hahahanna, Kechula, Ravenclaw Black Mamba, BlackPolaris, Teyranas, GUEST1969, DyeTheSheep, Sissybuddy, Sndwitch, Starrynyte04, hollyj-13, Detective F.L. Tritonson, truefictionaddict, Primroselovegood1576, the derpypotatodestroyer, davidwhip, Picu, Victoria 1676, Dr. Ura Vombastus Lee Strange, dontreallycare1924, AvvaxD, Drakenbane, LunaStarsNightWayne, Nerdundergrace, socially-awkward-nerd, ShuffleCat, Thana Black, Jacob Robinson, Mattis.00, Yue in the Stars, Roxycall18, Sunflower662, joellechinchinchin, Bookworm776, MayoIsWriting, ameburg, rycbarn5, Boredpplzzz, Green Echo, Magic Bean, Senamence, Luthistos, SwedishDiva, The Inheritor01, RAPJ, BittyJane16, marissamtz000, OrangeSunset1701, DemonOfADiamon, Ethandean Kusnadi, Foxwolf1050, andrea. , DaWriter06, Elpis21, Dragonfang1917, Themagicaltrash, garywashere,_ KaidzokuOu, MySuperAwesomePenName, SilverLynx57, YourMother79, chocolateowl, Liza Brightlove, Moon-Baby, SkippingThrough, Wondering Hall, loveless23, Amber96Anime, Favae, Johanna03, Karmitara, Song of Magic, MissSexyBaby, popstar055, MaidenOfTheSy334, MillionLIghts, elldorade, Datkoi, himesparkles, tardis106, naeo, Astaroth3317, Digital squid ink, Tasha Hogeterp, The Awesome Meeeee, NightHunter156, shadowofthelight369, TaylorBeth, FinnCipher, crazypet, 17ssuffern, MorganLowenberg, PrimalStorm, RemoraD, Toshiro with love, Insanitygirl96, jaybay32900, Obsidian Skin, 21stCenturyMarauder, heart44hayatolover, OhhPlease, Goldenfandom, iloveyou1234; _ ; Alaina Ross, RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley, find true strength, SerafinaMoon, Keeper31, Orion-muziek, Il1v3inmymind, kingdom2618, Silver Chamomile, Nywroc, draco1221, Teyranas, Noxy the Proxy, Mahoganyreads2, Sndwitch, L.L Wayne, Victoria1676, GeleKanarie, Roxycall18, MagicBean13, greaneyedbeauty, Luthistos, NotHere4This, DawnoftheShadows, abbydobbie, HelloShootingStar,_chlorose99, ClarinetNation, Kenzie.32, Mditty123, kbrown4086, Leamonta, S123456, MillionLights, Mefiles, Kuroshitsu Neko ninja, combatbootsgirl101, CupcakillStar, Bladethewonderdog, AppleSpongeCake, 17ssuffern, MorganLowenberg, diaaan, Fantasy's Magic, Kurora000, 19, monkeybaby**

 **Reviews:**

 **Phoenixhp5: Yeah, Natasha is always great, but nothing beats Tony and Peter.**

 **Web-HeadSuperFan: Well, I guess there was a new character in this chapter, but it wasn't he new character I was talking about. However, Hill is pretty awesome as it is.**

 **curry-llama: Everyone loves fluff. Also, if - by the end of this story - someone DOESN'T want to kill Richard Parker, I will question whether or not they are actually human**

 **Luckias: Yeah, I'm thinking this chapter so far is my favorite too. Writing fluff between Tony and Peter is probably my most favorite thing to do in the entire world. And YES! BRING ON THE COOKIES!**

 **lil cometz: ;)**

 **BeingMuggle: Happy tears! Happy tears are great! I love happy tears! But you know...just plain old smiling works to. Or...or laughing. You know...the common responses to joy. But whatever, man. You do you! And yes, Peter's canon name is now Baby Genius. Marvel needs to get on that.**

 **Seawell: *Takes out the hammer and the shiv* Just tell me when the funeral is. Also, I don't really know how I am able to write stuff like that. I've never truly lost anyone major in my life, and yet I feel like I have a pretty good grip on how someone would feel in a situation like that. There's only so much comfort you can find in words.**

 **ParadoxicOrder8: Uggg...writing books is so harrdddd! I'd know. I'm trying write now. And it's...killing me!**

 **Ammy of Asgard: It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!**

 **EmilyF.6: Nobody can get anything past our favorite Russian.**

 **LOST in the supermarket: Somebody order the Chapter Update with a side of angst?!**

 **chocolateowl: Gracias! That means a lot. I'm always gonna try to keep the characters developing while still staying true to their real personalities. It's one of my favorite challenges as a writer. Finding that balance.**

 **1-800fangirl: Whoo! Favorite Story Award! Gimme, gimme, gimme!**

 **GoddessofNothingness: Nothing like choking you with fluff after shivving you in the gut a couple of times. Just...just gonna wipe some of that blood up with this fluffy fluff. Yeah...you'll be fine.**

 **LoonyLovegood1981: Stand up to the IDIOTS!**

 **scc4: You know...I'd say you don't have to buy it...but I really like money so...That'll be $54.95 plus tax**

 **BlackPinkPuppy: Oof! Basically all of the Black Panther girls are so awesome it's hard to pick just one. Gotta say Okoye holds a special place in my heart.**

 **Nindragon: Dude, I'M excited when this story updates. Not cause I read it or anything. I'm just proud I was actually able to update XD**

 **Moon-Baby: Oh, yeah. I've never been drugged before, but I think that's a side effect. That and super paranoia, which is exactly why I will never take drugs. I'm already paranoid enough as it is...plus anxious, sick, depressed, frustrated...gotta love that teenage angst!**

 **Agent blue rose: Aww! Where's the fun in that? I gotta make you guys squirm for a little bit ;)**

 **momocandy2: Eat that salad, employee! Eat that healthy lunch! I mean, that's assuming what people with jobs eat in the break room. But idk I guess it depends on where you work. Cause I mean, if I worked at a McDonald's or something, you'd never catch me with a salad in there. I think they're forbidden actually... Whatever, I'd just smuggle hamburgers down my bra and file a sexual harassment claim if anyone tried to call me out on it. Whatever! These are just my extra large, extra cheesy breasts with no pickles! I don't have to take this kind of abuse!**

 **Karmitara: Yeah, that's what happens when you eat too much fluff. Now I gotta force you to eat some bitter angst to wash it down. Also, what you talking about?! This story will NEVER END! ...at least not before I hit like the 60 chapter mile marker or something. Seriously, this story is gonna be close to 1,000,000 words. At least, that's my goal.**

 **Toni42: Gotta love the fluffy fluff. Just makes chapters like this one all the more painful. But I think I let you guys off easy today. This could have been a lot darker and you know it. But don't worry, we'll get to the really juicy, angsty stuff soon. Just you wait!**

 **himesparkles: Irondad is best dad. I will fight and kill anyone who says otherwise.**

 **MorganLowenberg: Guess that means I'm writing him well then, huh? Hehehe *nervously shifts eyes***

 **AppleSpongeCake: *blinks* Ehh, go ahead, I got ugly toes anyway.**

 **RemoraD: Sleep is for the weak...and anyone who doesn't know what a fandom is**

 **Fantasy's Magic: Aww! Thank you so much! You literally just made my night (no seriously, it's two in the morning over here and I'm still writing) I do have to admit, this is one of my biggest pieces yet with the biggest following and the biggest word** **count** **and we aren't even a** **quarter** **of the way done yet XD I really hope you tag along for the rest of the ride cause it is going to be bumpy but I promise the payout worth it!**

 **And yeah,** **I've** **considered AO3 but tbh, it seems so much more complicated than this sight so idk maybe sometime in** **the** **future.**

 **RevengePanda: HI Panda's sister! Hi Panda's friends! Do you think Panda is crazy? Huh DO YOU?!** **Come** **at me scrub lords, I'm ripped!(props to whoever can identify this reference)**

 **Seawell: High-school isn't the bitch, it's making me _its_ bitch! I literally do whatever it asks of me with no complaint! I'm its lapdog! *cue more X Files music***

 **Agent Blue Rose: Dude, the principle and the dean have already taken like two pints of my blood for their secret sacrificial rituals so I'm doing a-okay over here. And...eww...you're a** **sophomore** **. You're still my lovely so I could never hate you, but I do hate your species.** **Sophomores** **are the worst.** **Arguabley** **worse than freshmen, thogh I'm sure you understand. I** **certainly** **did.**

 **Blaney: Well I hope it was** **worth** **the wait. Thank you for being so understanding my lovely!**

 **Phoenixhp5: DOnt worry, Nat'll be visiting the tower much more after this. Well, I hope this chapter gives you ssome inside on the thoughts of the rogues and why they feel the Tony bashing is acceptable.**

 **Alaina Ross: We got a binger over here, huh? Major respect, dude. It's not easy. And yeah, I can understand your feelings towards Peter in the beginning, but I had to establish the premise of the Au so I apologize if it was a bit heavy handed. Hopefully I have dialed it down enough to be more believable.**

 **Karmitara: Or you can just...idk NOT go to the dentist. That's Satan's favorite hangout, you know. I'm pretty sure he's pen-pals with my dentist.**

 **IDontWannaGo: *inhales sharply* I would just like to say...i don't appreciate your username, good sir. Pleae cease and** **desist** **immediately. PS, thank you for being such a sweetie, my lovely**

 **StarStepper: Yeah, I hate how most stories portray her as this emotionless robot. Like, yeah, I get it her personality can come off as cold and** **unattached** **, but it's obvious she cares for her teammates as seen in Civil War when she notices Tony struggling. I also dislike the bashing for either side in most stories, so you can be sure mine will have none of that. Oh yeah, well I'd like to leave you guys in the dark for the most part. Maybe as the story progresses more, you'll be able to vaguely see where it is going.**

 **BlackPolaris: Dude, i just gotta say, I love how you start this comment. "Hoo -Wee"? Who fucking sys that? Awesome people, that's who! I refuse to answer your legitimate questions, good sir. You'll just have to wait.**

 **thebookwork33: Finally caught up, huh? Well here's another pipin' hot chapter for you to choke down, bud. Aww..thank you so much! You are a true lovely!**

 **OrangeSUnset1701: Everyone loves the science nerds geeking out about science nerd shit! And everyone loves child kidnapping even more!**

 **Mimikkyu: BEHOLD! The cowardly _ASSHOLE_ in its natural habitat, internet comment sections. Watch as it withers and hisses in vain as the mighty hunter aims her rifle and tips her hat back.**

* * *

 **(P.S. That lovely little book cover that just randomly popped up one day was actually created by me. If you wanna check it out, here's the link here. Ignore the other art in my Deviant account. I was young and stupid...and bad with a pencil.** **rayrox360/art/Colors-of-Venom-758667569 (Or you can just type in my username. It's the same over there as it is here)**


	13. Thunderstorms

**Chapter 13: Thunderstorms**

* * *

 **Saturday - April 2, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Sub-Level Labs**

 **06:12 p.m.**

A sharp hiss of pain flew from his lips as he felt the knife slice his cheek, blood splattering the wall behind them as he reared back, quickly stepping out of range of the woman as she flipped the knife into her other hand.

Peter felt his chest heaving, positioning his feet to face off against her as Sandra threw him a crooked smile, her ponytail swishing behind her as she lifted up her arms, shining knife in hand. Peter narrowed his eyes and gripped the knife in _his_ hand a little tighter right as the woman charged him.

Tensing his muscles, the teen ducked underneath the oncoming slash and elbowed the woman in the side, a grunt falling from her lips as she bent, Peter swishing forward as he swept her legs out from underneath her. Sandra, ready for this, twisted onto her side and fell to one knee, swinging the other leg forward as she caught Peter in the back of the knee, the teen buckling right as she leapt forward and rammed her elbow into his shoulder.

He yelped and rolled away as the knife slashed the air right in front of his face, missing his nose by mere centimeters.

Quickly leaping back to his feet, Peter raised his arm and blocked the oncoming blow, dropping his knife into his other hand as he slashed upwards towards her chest, kicking the hem of her shirt before the two broke away again, her leg swishing out once more. Leaping over the kick, Peter surged forward and rammed his shoulder into her gut, driving her backwards as he cut her arm before he felt a similar feeling slice through his upper shoulder.

He hissed and backed up right as the knife flew forward once more, slashing his forehead before a fist slammed into his cheek, whipping his head to the side right as Sandra shot her knee upwards, catching the bottom of the boy's chin.

He grunted and fell to the floor as Sandra twirled the knife in her hand. "What's wrong, Petey? Tired already?"

"Considering we've been doing this for over ten minutes, just a little bit." He muttered, not even caring about what punishments could ensure for his sarcasm before he narrowed his eyes and curled his fingers even tighter around the knife in his hands, teeth grinding.

He had been fighting all day. Curt, Sandra, Max, Flint, even some of the new cadets. Each bringing with them a new trial for him to overcome, a new enemy to face. And for each exercise, his father stood to the side, measuring his reflexes, his stamina, his strength, face ever stoic and eyes as cold as always, his expressions never shifting into anything other than displeasure as he watched his son get pummeled, stomped, slashed and thrown all over the room.

But what else was new?

However, as he faced off against Sandra for the third time in the last four hours, he couldn't help but feel his frustrations beginning to burn brighter. Each taunt. Each blow. Each crooked smile made his teeth grind and his fists clench just a little harder. It had been such a long day, and he was ready for it to be _over!_

With a growl of fury, the teen rushed her once again. Preparing for this, Sandra prepared for the teen to strike low once again. However, she was not ready for him to flip over her, slashing her back as he leapt, landing on the ground for just a moment before surging back towards her, sliding underneath her legs as he slit the back of her knees, the woman letting out a growl of pain as she buckled, only for the teen to ram his fist into her face and flip his knife into his other hand, striking it forward as the woman countered with her own, their arms clashing as the tips of their knives pointed threateningly towards their throats.

If it weren't for the inhibitor cuffs tacked onto his writs, Peter would have _easily_ overpowered the woman. However, seeing as he'd prepared for such an event, the teen ducked underneath her outstretched weapon and hit the woman's arm from underneath, catching her by surprise as the knife fell from her grasp, the teen gripping it in his hands as it fell and whipping it forward.

However, before the weapon could reach the mark that was her neck, he felt a powerful force stop his movements cold, seeming to freeze him in place as a cold wash of energy flooded his senses and paralyzed him where he stood.

Eyes widening at the sudden situation, the teen was just able to look around enough in his frozen state to recognize the purple energy now encompassing his body. A feeling of dread fell into the pit of his stomach like a stone sinking in a lake as he tentatively glanced back towards Sandra. The woman was glaring at him in fury as her eyes glowed a deep violet, which matched the energy pooling in her hands as well as the aura hovering around the frozen boy.

Suddenly, with a flick of her wrist, Peter was sent hurtling backwards, his head hitting the back wall with a sickening _thud_ before he crumpled to the ground, a loud groan floating up from his shivering form.

"Sandra..." His father scolded as he entered the training room, the doorway opening up from the bare white walls. The woman folded her arms and glanced back at him. "What? He got me all frustrated." She muttered with a bored expression. "Serves him right for snapping at me."

Richard let out a small growl of annoyance, a clear sign for the woman to stop talking as she exited the room before she had the chance to tick the man off even further. Richard rolled his eyes at the scene but said nothing else as he strode across the room towards his son, who was slowly beginning to rise to his hands and knees.

Peter shakily raised his head, hair falling into his eyes as he stared up at his father. "Up." The man commanded, Peter following through in a second's time as he followed the man out of the training room, the lights falling dim as they exited.

Outside the simulation room, the man swiftly turned on his heel, Peter nearly running into him as he abruptly stopped and held out his hand. The teen blinked for a moment, unsure of what his father wanted him to do, only to jump as he realized the inhibitor cuffs were still attached to his wrists. Cautiously placing his hands into his father's, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, undoing the locks on the cuffs as they released the teen's wrists. Richard pocketed the cuffs and the key as he turned away without a word.

As usual when following up their daily training sessions, Peter went off towards the back of the huge command center to tend to his wounds while his father and the Cons met in his office - which was a suped-up renovation of the inside of one of the abandoned subway cars - to discuss the outcomes of the day.

Plopping down in one of the uncomfortable chairs, Peter winced and let his head fall against the back wall as a sigh fell past his lips, his eyes gently fluttering shut as the full weight of the day's events drained at what little energy remained in him.

Lazily cracking his eyes back open, the teen glanced to the side and gazed down at the rag, bandages and the bowl of water situated on the small table next to him. A wave of exhaustion flowed through him at the idea of moving any more, but he knew he had to clean himself up or the others would get annoyed at him for taking so long.

Heaving a small sigh, the teen groaned as he pushed himself up to rest his elbows on his knees as he reached over with a wince and picked up the towel.

Knowing that he could really only tend to his smaller wounds at the moment, the boy dipped the towel into the bowl of water and dabbed the cloth against his cheek, wincing as he felt the harsh sting of the liquid seeping into the ripped skin, gently dabbing the rag until drops of water began to pool down his cheek, dripping onto his pants.

Moving on to the cuts on his arms and collarbone, the teen bit his tongue against the sting of the cuts and rubbed the sweat and grime out of the scrapes before dropping the towel back onto the table and going for the bandages. Ripping off a small piece of the adhesive, he placed a tiny rectangle of tape onto the cut on his cheek and began to wrap the slashes present on his biceps and wrists, including the scarring marks left by the inhibitor cuffs, which always seemed to rub his skin raw.

Just as he was finishing up, the teen felt his stomach give a loud roar of protest, gnawing painfully at his insides as he shut his eyes in discomfort. Rolling the dates through his mind, Peter quickly remembered that it was Saturday, meaning he had to go out and buy groceries today.

 _Fun._

The teen supposed he shouldn't complain. After all, it was during these rare occasions that he was able to buy something for himself to eat, granted without the knowledge of his father or the Cons. But what they didn't know...

However, with the benefits of such endeavors came the equally _horrid_ part of asking his father for money. Despite the fact that the man had _assigned_ Peter to grocery shopping detail _years_ ago, the man still couldn't seem to wrap his head around the fact that in order to do so, Peter needed money, meaning he needed his _father's_ money.

Peter cast a morose glance his father's way, the light from the subway car spilling out into the rest of the room. Quickly sucking in a steadying breath, Peter slowly hoisted himself up from the chair, muscles screaming in protest as he grimaced in pain, forcing himself to move nonetheless.

As usual, the teen made an effort to avoid any and all contact with the other people in the room. Some he'd never seen before while others were already frequent suppliers and cadets. Nevertheless, Peter knew that if they were down there - if they were mingling with his father and his crew - then they were bad news.

And Lord knew, Peter didn't need any more of that.

After ducking and dodging past the others in the massive workroom, Peter hesitantly stared at the train car looming ahead of him. The warm orange light seeping from the windows and out the front entrance seemed to creep across the ground, stretching and clawing towards Peter's feet, threatening to drag him in.

The teen shook the thoughts away and took a steadying breath before entering the car.

The base skeletal structure of the car was the same. Large windows that stretched along the top half of the train, and a long narrow pathway flanked by said windows. However, the seats had been gutted out in favor for larger, comfier couches while a desk sat pushed up against one of the side walls and the other hoisted a bulletin board complete with multiple pins and files attached to the surface. His father sat behind the large counter, eyes scanning over the papers spread out over the desk while Max and Sandra put up new pieces of paper onto the bulletin board and Curt read out random information from a clipboard in his hands. Flint was...well, Flint was passed out on the small couch, an empty bottle in one of his large hands.

They hadn't noticed his arrival.

Realizing he'd have to get a move on if he wanted to reach the store in time before it closed, the teen cleared his throat and gently knocked on the metal surface of the closest wall.

Immediately, four heads shot up towards the noise, save for Flint, who was still passed-out drunk. Curt curled his lip before glaring back down at the clipboard. "What the hell do _you_ want?" He muttered, as if his mere presence was a major inconvenience for them.

Peter opened his mouth, only to pause as he glanced over at his father. Richard was staring at him with his usual stare of displeasure and annoyance as he waved his hand in a motion that meant _'Explain. Quickly.'_

Peter jerked out of his silence as he lowered his head and began to wring his hands out like wet towels. "Umm...i-it's Saturday. I-"

"Boy, _thank_ you for the update!" Sandra snorted before tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Any other _shocking_ news you'd like to proclaim?" She muttered, Max elbowing her in the side in disapproval while Curt snorted into the back of his hand. Richard rolled his eyes at their words but continued to stare back at Peter, dark black eyes boring into hazel-gold.

The look made Peter shiver.

"I...It's just that...I gotta g-go get groceries t-today." He murmured quietly, tensions mounting inside him on how his father would react. More often than not, it depended on the man's mood. It was almost _always_ _impossible_ to predict his father's reactions.

However, as the words left his mouth, Peter heard his father mutter a sigh of irritation before beckoning the teen over. Peter was quick to comply, sliding past Flint's sprawled-out body before coming up to stand beside his father's desk. The man ripped a few bills from his wallet and shoved them at the boy, Peter quickly floundering to get a better grip on them. "Don't dawdle." The man muttered before leaning closer to the teen, threateningly pointing a finger in his direction. "And _don't_ get any more than needed. Understand?" He growled, eyes narrowed in malice and disgust.

Peter hastily nodded his head. "Y-yes, sir." He exclaimed quietly, moving to dart back out of the cart, only for his father to clear his throat as he stood up from his desk and began to shuffle a few papers into place. His hard stare remained locked on the folders as he spoke. "We won't be here when you get back." He uttered in his usual hard tone before looking away, the small piece of information obviously the only thing he wished to disclose.

However, in his haste, Peter couldn't help but furrow his brows in involuntary curiosity as he tilted his head "Where are you going?" He asked on reflex, before his brain could catch up to the words spilling from his mouth.

As soon as the words were out, the teen realized the mistake he'd made as his father rounded on him, backhanding him across the cheek before roughly grabbing the teen by the side of the neck, aggressively tilting his head back to stare the man straight in the eyes. "That's none of your _goddamn_ business, you hear me?!" He snarled, face pinched in anger as Peter grabbed his father's wrist, hoping to pry the hand off of his neck. "You don't ask questions. You do as you're told and you keep your mouth shut! You understand?!"

The teen did his best to nod, eyes scrunching as he gritted his teeth together. Richard curled his lip in disgust before dropping the teen to the floor, glaring down at him with a scowl. "How many times are we gonna have to do this before you start getting it through your head." He muttered before swiftly walking back towards the desk.

The Cons hadn't even bothered to look up.

Peter said nothing as he scrambled to his feet and quickly bolted from the subway car, not stopping even as he exited into the open station once more, dashing straight for the elevator near the back of the building.

He panted heavily as the elevator doors slid closed around him, his back pressing into the cool metal behind him as he wrapped a hand around his throat, heaving at the throbbing pain in his cheek and shoulder. The soft whirring of the elevator slowly began to help his heart calm, the frantic beating dying down to a rhythmic thumping as he blew a sigh past his lips.

 _Idiot_. He muttered to himself, glaring down at nothing. _Why can't you ever just shut up?_ He growled bitterly,resting the back of his head against the wall behind him as he shut his eyes.

 _"I'm not gonna punish you or whatever for saying what's on your mind, you know."_

The teen paused as Mr. Stark's words echoed in his mind, a lump forming in the back of his throat as he anxiously continued to rub at his collarbone. Perhaps taking Tony words of advice _wasn't_ the best idea for him. After all, it was already beginning to get him into more trouble than usual, Threatening to instill in him a confidence that the Cons and his father had been adamant in crushing. Besides, it wasn't like he could really apply such words to his life at home.

That was likely to get him killed.

Still...

" _I want you to feel like you_ _can be yourself here, alright?"_

Couldn't hurt to dream.

The teen jerked out of his thoughts as the elevator doors slid open onto the penthouse floor he shared with his father, his shoulders sagging slightly at the sight. Nevertheless, Peter sucked in a small breath before stepping out. A hot shower seemed to be calling him, and he wouldn't stave it off any longer.

The setting sun was a frothing ball in the sky, warm orange tones seeping out around the clouds, flaring bright yellow and cool pink as its bright rays were reflected down onto the moving city below, shining on each glass pane and metal surface. The street down below was busy as always, people milling the curbs and flashes of light beginning to bloom as the neon signs of New York's night life began to flicker into existence, clashing with the warmth of the sky and the harshness of the neon glow. Yet the warm tones could not mask the dark clouds gathering near the horizon, cold gray beginning to seep into the yellows and reds, clashing violently against the bright backdrop.

Peter stared out at the sight, the warmth dripping onto his face as he felt the sun's rays hitting his cheeks before he turned away, hazel eyes drifting towards the floor. Without another word, the teen slowly ascended the nearby staircase up to his room.

The silence around him was a welcome departure from the usual fighting and shouting that commonly occurred downstairs. They were always arguing about something. Peter thought it best to avoid them at those times.

After entering his room, it didn't take the teen long to whisk off his shirt and sweatpants and hop into the shower. Though exiting was a whole other story. The warm water soaking into his bones made it near impossible to step away. But after he felt the tips of his fingers beginning to wrinkle, Peter let out a small sigh and turned the water off, small drops falling from his cheeks and the tips of his hair as he stepped out and grabbed a towel from the sink, scrubbing it through his hair, which quickly stuck up all over the place.

Reaching for the clothes he'd dragged in from his dresser, Peter quickly pulled up the long, dark-blue jeans and grabbed his shirt before pausing, taking in the sight staring back at him in the mirror.

His abdomen was a swirl of dark blues, purples and blacks, trails of deep red and light yellow sprinkled in here and there. His ribs were clearly visible and his pale skin tone only enhanced the bruises. Deep scars ran up along his sides and across his chest, some old and fading while others were still relatively fresh.

He blinked back at the sight, a small sigh escaping his lips. Other than that, his reaction was minimal. Such a sight didn't really bother him anymore. He knew it should have, but he just couldn't muster up the energy to care about it anymore. Besides, it wasn't like it would change anything if he did, so what was the point?

Shaking his head, the teen pulled the shirt down over his head, wincing loudly as he pulled at the newly scarring wounds he'd acquired earlier that afternoon, the air sucking in between his teeth as the skin pulled taught and the harsh red lines stretched painfully. Nevertheless, he yanked the T-shirt down all the way and walked back out into his bedroom, a warm cloud of stream following him as he opened the bathroom door.

Walking over to the dresser, he grabbed the money his father had given him, shoved it into his pocket and tossed a jacket over his shoulder as he stepped out of his bedroom, running a hand through his lightly damp hair before steeling himself, moving over towards the elevator once more.

The light sound of voices met his ears before the elevator had even stopped, the doors opening to reveal the first floor and the Cons, who were lounging in the living room, eyes blearily staring at the TV as they smoked... _something_. Peter averted his eyes. They didn't like it when he snooped on their business. He could hear the tell-tale sound of liquid swishing around a glass bottle and the sound of Curt fingering his lighter, clicking it open and closed rhythmically, the soft noise echoing in the air just loud enough for Peter to make out.

He hated that noise.

 _Chink! Flink! Chink! Flink!_

He lowered his head and stiffed his shoulder as he rushed for the door, praying they either didn't notice him or didn't care that he was even there. He was willing to bet on the latter as he reached the door and quickly exited, slamming it behind him with a satisfying _THUD!_

Releasing a small breath, the teen reached behind him and flipped up his hoodie as he glanced up at the sky, which was now beginning to melt into a pale pink with tones of purple, the darkening storm clouds creeping ever closer, sucking in all the colors from the sky into their gray embrace.

The teen fiddled with the money in his pocket, making sure it was still there before reaching for his earbuds.

However, Peter caught sight of something out of the corner of his eyes and turned his head as he saw his neighbor, May, standing on the front steps of her porch, a large potted plant in her arms as she shakily tried to take another step up the stairs, grunting at the weight of the plant in her arms.

She gritted her teeth as she tried once more to steady her foot on the next step, pushing herself up before she felt her toes slip back, a small yelp falling from her lips as she felt herself falling backwards.

Suddenly, she felt two hands grab her back and steady her as she slipped back to the cement sidewalk, eyes blinking in shock at the fact that she wasn't currently being flattened on the ground by the large pot, only to grin as Peter popped his head over her shoulder, bright eyes staring at her in concern. "You okay?" He asked breathlessly, obviously having just run over at the sight of her struggles.

The older woman beamed back at him with a warm smile. "Yes, Peter. Thank you." She murmured, setting the pot back down to the floor with a huff as she gave the plant a slight kick. "This damn thing seems to get heavier and heavier every time I try to lift it." She muttered, brushing a strand of chocolate hair out of her eyes.

Peter let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head mischievously. "And you seem to get clumsier and clumsier with each attempt." He teased, the woman giving him a light swipe on the shoulder, to which he easily avoided with a smirk.

The woman let out a small sigh before glaring up at the sky. "Well I wasn't _planning_ on moving this stupid thing anytime soon, but it looks like it's gonna rain this evening and these things aren't meant to take much water." She explained, lightly kicking the pot once again to prove her point.

Peter glance down at it before shrugging. "Well, I can help you if you'd like." He offered.

May quickly shook her head. "Oh, it's alright, Peter. That thing's pretty heavy. I wouldn't want you to hurt your-" She started, only to pause as Peter bent down and easily lifted the pot into his arms. "-self" She finished after a pause, scrunching her nose as the teen walked up the steps and deposited the pot next to the woman's covered doorway. "Where are you hiding all that muscle, Pete?" She teased, lightly poking him in the arm.

Peter ignored the uncomfortable tingle that twinged through him at the touch and shook his hands in front of his face. "I'm an enigma." He joked with a smile, May laughing beside him. "That you are, kiddo. That you are." She mused as the boy hopped down the steps once more. "SO what're you doing out here anyway? Waitin' around for opportunities to save me _and_ school me at the same time?" She smirked.

Peter chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm just heading to the store. Grocery run." He explained.

She furrowed her brow and glanced up at the darkening sky. "Now? It's near ready to pour, honey." She expressed with a hint of concern edging her voice. Peter noticed it, but said nothing about it as he shrugged once more. "Dad's orders."

He meant it as a joke, but from the way his neighbor's face quickly darkened, it was obvious she saw the truth behind it, Peter's hands clenching slightly in concern. May seemed to quickly realize the uncomfortableness on Peter's face, for she quickly brushed it away, though it was hard to mask the anger burning in her chest. "Right, I know how that feels. I had to run quite a few chores back when I was your age." She tried to lighten the mood, which was easy considering Peter was all-too happy to change the subject.

The teen tilted his head nonchalantly. "It's no big deal." He sighed, content with the fact that he wasn't tripping over his words. He usually never did around May. There was nothing to be concerned about with May. Nothing to fear.

The woman stole another glance at the sky as a small grumble of thunder echoed around them. "At least let me drive you, Pete. I don't want you catching a cold if it really _does_ start to rain." She said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Peter brushed it off politely, masking his immediate reaction of escaping the touch with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'll be fine, May." He reassured her, ignoring the concerned look on her face as he decided to try another tactic. "Besides, you need to head to the diner soon anyway."

May's eyes widened slightly as she whipped her head down towards her watch, cursing under her breath as she caught sight of the time. "Damn." She muttered before throwing the teen a stink-eye. "How is it that you know my work schedule better than _I_ do?" She scoffed, Peter chuckling as she ruffled his hair.

"Just promise me you'll be careful." She murmured softly as she began to tie her hair back into a bun. As usual, a few stray strands escaped her grasp, falling down around the sides of her face, framing her cheeks perfectly. Peter gave a small nod. "I'll be _fine,_ May." He grinned back as he stepped off of the step and back down to the sidewalk.

The woman lingered at her door for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. "Alright." She murmured, clearly not happy at the current events, but realizing there wasn't much she could do to fix it.

Peter waved back at her. "See you later, May. Oh! And remember to bring your notebook for class tonight!" He reminded her, the woman slapping her forehead with a groan. "Forgot I had that _too._ You're a lifesaver, Peter." She called before racing back into her apartment, intent on seeking out her journal for her night classes down at the medical center.

Peter gave a small smile and shook his head at his neighbor's forgetful mind before rubbing at the back of his neck. May was a _wonderful_ woman, and was great at getting Peter to talk.

Too good.

One of these days, she'd get him to say something he didn't mean to say. Something he wasn't _allowed_ to say. That made her _dangerous._ Not dangerous in the same way that Curt and Max and his father were, but dangerous nonetheless.

Dangerous in the same way Mr. Stark was.

He narrowed his eyes and shoved the headphones into his ears more forcefully than needed, sticking his hands into his pockets as the soft roll of thunder milled in the background. Hopefully she was wrong. Hopefully the rain would hold off.

Peter jolted slightly as he felt a cold drop of water land on the tip of his nose.

 _Of course..._

* * *

 **Saturday - April 2, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Offices**

 **07:21 p.m.**

"Tony, are you even _listening_ to us?!"

"Nope." The man popped out nonchalantly as he continued to lazily spin in his office chair, Rhodey and Pepper sharing exasperated looks as he turned and threw them a weird look. "Wait - so... _why_ are you in here again?" He asked with a bored tone, head tilting down to gaze at the open manila folder in his lap, indistinguishable papers fluttering in-between his fingertips.

Pepper gritted her teeth slightly, but otherwise held her cool as she narrowed her piercing blue eyes. "I just got off the phone with one very angry Secretary Ross." She started as her face twitched. "Apparently, you missed another on-call session with him this afternoon."

Tony didn't even bother in lifting his head as he continued to stare down at the papers in his lap. "Missed...avoided - you know these things are so ill-properly scheduled that it wouldn't be too much to wonder if maybe it was Ross who missed the call and me who was stiffed." He tossed out casually as he lightly kicked his feet underneath his desk.

Rhodey let out a small growl as he stalked forward and slammed his hand against the surface of the desk, the loud _bang_ finally catching the billionaire's attention as he lifted his gaze. "Oh would you cut the bullshit for one _fucking_ second and take something seriously for once?!" The man snapped.

Tony barely seemed phased as he flipped the folder closed and lifted his head. "Sorry, not really in my repertoire." He muttered back with a challenging look flashing in his eyes.

The colonel opened his mouth to spit out a retort, only to shut his eyes tightly as Pepper placed a hand on his shoulder, the man stepping back as he raised a hand to his face, blowing out a sigh as he ran a hand down his chin.

"Tony, you cannot keep blowing him off like this." Pepper stared up for him.

"Mmm, I'm pretty sure I can. It's pretty easy actua-"

"He is the _goddamn_ Secretary of State, Tony!" Rhodey snapped, glaring down at the man who was now tapping his fingers against the closed file. "What do you think's gonna happen when he gets tired of your shit?" He growled out, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Well, shocking as it may be, I'm not his number one priority right now." Tony muttered, left arm twinging with the same bout of phantom pains that had been plaguing it for some time. "And honestly, I don't give a _shit_ who he is, alright?" He snapped back. "He's a twit-faced asshole who could use a power check every now and then." He scoffed, waving his hand dismissively.

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose while Rhodey clenched his fists and sucked in another breath through his teeth.

"Besides, he only needs me for one thing, and I've already made it abundantly clear that I want nothing to do with it."

Rhodes narrowed his eyes at that. "Why?"

Tony threw his eyes back on the colonel. "Why what?" He muttered.

"Why are you so reluctant to help catch them?" Pepper finished.

"Because it's not my _fucking_ job, that's why!" The billionaire snapped back, eyes flashing. "They're _international_ felons, meaning their capture is up to the United Nations, meaning the Accords are in play here. And since those pencil-pushing douchebags refuse to agree on the revisions, we're on stagnating waters with those documents. Meaning I'm off duty for the time being." He explained with a cross look marring his features.

He curled his hand into a fist and lightly pounded it against the armrest of his chair before glancing back up towards the others. "Look, Ross is on the forefront of the revisions process regarding the Accords, meaning all this shit stems around him."

"They why the hell are you pushing him so much?" Rhodey scoffed. "Just give him what he wants and he'll stop making your life such a hell!"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You kidding me? That's exactly _why_ I'm fucking with him. The second I give into his little demands is the second I show him that I'm willing to bend and crawl for him and the day that happens is the day I blow my goddamn head off!" He snarled, fighting to ignore the way both Pepper and Rhodey winced at the self-harming comment. He averted his gaze and glared down at the ground.

"I'm nobody's fucking lap-dog."

Rhodey let out another exasperated breath before turning back towards the man. "So, what? You're just gonna avoid him for the rest of your life?" He scoffed.

"That, or until they catch those idiots. Honestly, whichever comes first." Tony shrugged, masking the obvious tensions that were building inside of him at the topic of conversation. The twitching in his fingers and the burning pain in his left arm were a dead giveaway, however.

"Goddamn it, Tony." The colonel cursed. "This isn't something that you can just ignore and hope that it goes away. This is serious. This is national secutiry we're talking about here and-"

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes as he flipped his head back. "Oh, don't give me that! That's-"

"What!? What is it, Tony! What?!"

"That's bullshit!"

"Why?" Rhodes snapped, more infuriated with the man than with the actual words coming from his mouth. "Are you denying that they're dangerous, that they're criminals, that they broke the law?"

"No! God, fuck - that's n- that's not what I'm saying!" Tony growled, brushing a hand over his forehead as he tightly shut his eyes, a growing pressure building up behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth together as the pressure steadily turned into a harsh thumping.

"Then what _are_ you saying, Tony?" Pepper finally chimed in, placing an appeasing hand on Rhodey's shoulder as she gestured for him to take a breath, interfering before things could get out of hand. "Because to me, it sounds like you're avoiding this because..." She trailed off for a moment, eyes shifting slightly in her uncertainty before continuing. "...because you don't want them to be caught."

"Oh, _for the love of-_ " The billionaire groaned.

"Why is Natasha still here, then?" Rhodey countered. "You have the capabilities. You have the tech, the resources. You know they're near. You know they're close. One search. One...and you could get them off your back for the rest of your life. No Ross. No Rogues. Done." The man explained, ignoring the bitter taste the words left in his mouth. He quickly dismissed it in favor of gauging his best friend's reaction.

Tony said nothing. He simply stared hard at the surface of his desk and shook his head, lips pressed into a firm line. The twinging in his arm made him squeeze his eyes shut once more as his head gave another loud throb.

Pepper carefully leaned forward, her movements slow and precise, almost as if she were dealing with a wild animal. "Tony...please think _carefully_ about this. Once Ross gets sick of all those dead ends, he's...he's gonna come for you." She breathed. "You'll be his next target."

Tony continued to shake his head, the pain he was feeling now beginning to show on his face as he grimaced, barely even registering the woman's words. "No...n-no...I sign...I signed those Accords." He said softly, his voice breathy and distracted as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, gripping his forearm tightly.

"Yeah, you did." Rhodey sighed. "But Ross will find a way to turn this around, to claim that you're obstructing justice, breaking the regulations." The man leaned forward, willing his friend to take in the gravity of his words. "He'll come after you, Tones."

For a moment, the billionaire said nothing, rubbing his forearm in a pointless attempt to quell the soreness. He lowered his head, realizing the file from before was still sitting in his lap. His eyes traveled over the heading on the folder before his brows knitted together, his face hardening as he grabbed the file and stood up from his seat.

He angrily threw the folder down onto the desk, a loud _slap_ reaching their ears as he glared back at them. "He'll _try."_ He finally growled out before stepping away from his desk and brushing past the others.

"Where are you going?" Pepper asked, her exasperated tone making Tony's fingers twitch once more.

"Out." He called over his shoulder, never even breaking his stride as he made for the elevator.

Rhodey narrowed his eyes. "Tony-" He warned, only for the other man to cut him off. "What?! I'm taking your advice. You're the ones who said I shouldn't stay cooped up in this damn tower all day!" The words bounced off the walls as the man disappeared behind the corner.

The colonel let out a frustrated grunt while Pepper ran a hand down her face, her head slowly swiveling towards the desk, Rhodey's doing the same as they caught sight of the name on the file that had been in the billionaire's lap moments earlier.

 _Peter B. Parker_

* * *

 **Saturday - April 2, 2016**

 **Midtown East - 42nd Street**

 **07:54 p.m.**

His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were ashen white. He could hear the sound of the leather material squeaking as he squeezed, hands shaking under the extreme duress of his death grip.

The sound of the engine roared around him as he felt the revving of the car while it sped down the street. Lights from the tall buildings around him flared before his eyes, flashing brightly with neon yellows, greens and pinks bright enough to rival the sun. Shooting past, they all blurred into bright lines that whisked past his line of sight.

He could feel the tenseness of his jaw as he clenched his teeth and tried to resist from banging his palm against the dashboard. His tight grip allowed him to feel the blood flowing around inside his hands, the sound of his heart beating making his ears ring. He pushed his foot down harder on the pedal as the car sped up another notch.

Where he was going? He didn't know, nor did he care.

Tony grimaced slightly as he felt the usual twinge of his arm flaring back at him, but he chose to ignore it, focusing back on the road ahead of him, which was now slick and shining with the rain falling around him.

The sky was pitch black, large dark clouds concealed in its inky depths as thick grey raindrops fell, clinging to everything in dark black stains as the streets, the buildings and the surrounding cars were all coated in a glossy shine. The streets around them were milling with multicolored umbrellas, only adding to the wave of color that filled the city at night.

But the billionaire was a bit too preoccupied to really notice.

His fingers tapped angrily on the rim of the steering while as he drove along the road, silently conveying the anger radiating off of the man in vibrant waves. The echoing voices of his friends bounced off of his ears, making his grip tighten as he gritted his teeth and glared out the side windows for a moment, taking in the steady stream of cars whisking past him before focusing straight on once more.

It wasn't that they weren't right.

That was the first thing Tony came to realize as he drove, the melodic humming of the car underneath him lulling him into a mindscape of silence and self-reflection that only made his hands tighten and his muscles tense. Everything that they'd said had made sense. All of it. And he knew that. He knew it as they'd said it and he knew it now.

But hearing reality from someone else was as pointless as telling it to himself, so he didn't bother in listening anymore. He knew how dangerous it was to keep messing with Ross, the Secretary of State, someone with the power to change the Accords at a moments notice just to screw with his life.

Still, that didn't change the fact that Tony could barely stand the man, let alone cooperate with him.

Throughout his life, Tony Stark had developed an impressive skill of letting people he didn't like know such a fact without him ever having to say it. Whether it was through snarky comments, underhanded acts of pettiness or some other show of superiority. If he didn't like you, you and _everyone_ around you knew it.

Yet, despite what some would rather believe, Tony didn't just go around disliking people for no reason. Whether it was a _valid_ reason was up for debate, but the point still stood. If Tony Stark didn't like you, then there was an explanation for it.

And his reasons for hating Ross were _primo._

He'd met dozens of assholes who'd rubbed him the wrong way, but Ross just seemed to have a funny way of doing it that made the billionaire want to blast that mustache right off of his idiot face. It was as if the secretary wasn't even _trying_ to hide the fact that he enjoyed watching Tony squirm.

Not only that, but Ross had been on Tony's radar before the Accords were even an _idea._ He'd had tabs on the man ever since he'd learned of his interest in capturing the Hulk. And ever since Tony had become great friends with the alter-ego of said Hulk, Ross quickly turned into a man he'd rather not see or hear from on a daily basis.

But nothing took the cake more than the fact that the Accords and the shitstorm that came with them all circled back to Ross.

Now, Tony knew that it wasn't just the mustached-douchebag that had drummed up those damn papers. No, over a hundred countries had agreed to them, and the billionaire had to admit that he had too. In fact, he _still_ did. And he was sure he could have gotten the other Avengers to agree to it as well.

If it hadn't been for Ross.

Ever since Thor and Captain America had shown up on the ranks alongside the already loose Hulk, Tony could tell that Ross had quickly taken a dislike to..." _enhanced_ individuals", which meant the creation of the Avengers hadn't necessarily been his favorite development. Now, SHIELD and Fury had taken it upon themselves to act as their makeshift government liaison as their team had begun to form and their bonds had begun to knit together, meaning that Ross and his little schemes had never been able to get through to them.

Or course, once SHIELD fell, the floodgates were opened.

Tony had known it was only a matter of time before their actions caught up with them and the consequences were held over their heads, but the fact that it was _Ross_ dangling them had not helped convince the others of the benefits of the Accords. All they'd seen was someone like Ross pushing a new agenda onto them.

And the billionaire just _knew_ that Ross relished in the divide that the Accords had sliced into the Avengers, so much so that he did nothing to mend it. He only added to the fire, digging his hands into the wound and ripping it apart even more until Tony had no choice but to go after the Avengers himself, to follow Ross's orders and _try_ to save his family before they were slaughtered by the very government that was supposed to be on their side. And it wasn't like they could fully fight back. After all, those were good men on those teams. Men who were just following orders.

There were no bad guys in a situation like that. No justification for killing. They would have been cornered. So Tony had bitten the bullet and agreed to catch his teammates himself, to try and give them one last out before Ross had his way with them.

And they all knew how well that turned out.

Tony yanked roughly on the wheel as he turned down another lane, the tires skidding against the slick roadways.

Now, the billionaire in no sense of the matter excused the Rogue Avengers for what they had done. They'd made a choice and now they'd have to live with the consequences of said choice. But...but he knew deep down that the breaking up of the Avengers could have been avoided. It could have been avoided if Rogers had gotten his head out of his ass and decided to do something smart for once. It could have been avoided if those idiots had listened to him at the airport. And it could have been avoided if Ross had butted out and let them deal with one another themselves without the overhanging threat of a kill squad coming in to obliterate half of the team.

A flash of red above his head had the man resting his foot against the brakes as the car came to a stop at the red light. He somehow managed to unhook his hands from the steering wheel as he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his face as a long tired sigh bubbled past his lips. No...he would _never_ take orders from Ross again.

Cause the last time he did . . . . it cost him his family.

For a moment, all he did was sit there, feeling the coarseness of his calloused fingers rubbing against his face as he felt the oncoming throbs of a blooming headache spreading along the back of his head. With a small breath, the man lifted his head back up, watching the people milling the street pass over the crosswalk in front of his car.

The billionaire was glad that even in his fury of exiting the tower, he'd been aware enough to take his most inconspicuous car. The last thing he needed right now was some paparazzi mob harassing him, especially when there was a high chance of him punching somebody out at the moment.

However, as his tired eyes glazed over the crowd, he couldn't help but catch sight of a figure weaving through the crowd. Normally, Tony doubted he would have picked him out at all, but considering he was the only person walking with no umbrella, it made him pretty noteworthy.

The man couldn't help but scoff as he watched the figure, which he could assume was a teenager from the short stature, mill between people while looking very much like a drowned rat, complete with two armfuls full of groceries.

"What an idiot..." He muttered to himself with a smirk and a roll of his eyes, only to pause as he took in a better look of the figure, which...now that he was _really_ looking at him...was incredibly skinny...with pale white skin and a mop of brown hair...

The billionaire leaned forward as he squinted his eyes and tried to take in as much of the "stranger" as possible. "That can't be..." He murmured to himself, the words dying as the figure twisted around and exposed his face towards Tony's car. A face with unnaturally-bright brown eyes.

The man squinted his eyes shut and let out a very long sigh. "Shit, that's _my_ idiot." He groaned to himself as he watched Peter finish crossing the street and disappear around one of the building corners.

Watching as the last of the pedestrians finished crossing the street, Tony pressed his foot on the gas and rounded the same corner, quickly catching sight of the boy as he walked, sticking as close to the edges of the buildings as possible, as if he were trying to cover himself with the small concrete outcroppings. Though considering how he looked like the victim of a drowning attempt, it was safe to say he wasn't succeeding.

The teen hoisted two grocery bags in his arms, which seemed to be filled to the brim if the bulging of the paper bags was any indication. For a moment, Tony just sat their, the car pulled off to the side of the road as he watched and wondered what the best course of action was. After all, it was Saturday, meaning Tony was the last person Peter would be expecting to see, let alone the last person to offer him a ride home. That made his chances of getting shot down much higher, knowing the teen would probably give some lame excuse and say he didn't wanna inconvenience him.

Besides, if the kid said he could handle himself, then who was Tony to disagree? Besides, with the mood he was in right now, the billionaire doubted it was a good idea to bring Peter into the mix with the threat of saying something insensitive to the teen. The last thing he wanted was to take a step back in the progress they were making.

A loud roll of thunder clapped overhead, Peter jumping slightly as he hugged his body against the building wall for a moment, his form tense and uptight.

Tony watched for another moment before making up his mind. It was best to just leave the kid be. It wouldn't do either of them any favors to jeopardize the slow progress they were making. And throwing their little routine off balance might do just that. It was only logical.

That was that.

Leave the kid be.

Drive off.

. . . .

. . . .

His tires screeched as he sped up and quickly caught up to the teen, his passenger window rolling down even faster.

 _God dammit..._

Peter quickly spun around at the loud noise, dripping face scrunching in slight confusion as he watched the car pull up. However, his eyes quickly widened as he caught sight of _who_ was driving.

"Amazing who you run into on the streets these days, huh?"

"M-Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah. Hi. So are you enjoying your afternoon stroll? You know, I hear they can be incredibly relaxing, especially when you're not encumbered by useless things like...umbrellas...and working immune systems."

"Mr. _Stark?"_

Yeah, two for two, kid. Anyway, correct me if I'm wrong but I'm almost 75% certain that walking around in the pouring rain when it's fifty degrees out perhaps _isn't_ the best idea you've come up with."

The teen couldn't do more than stutter for a moment as he tried to process whether or not the person in front of him really _was_ Tony Stark?

"We gonna make it three for three? Here, I'll save you the trouble. _Yes,_ it _is_ me, Tony Stark."

He certainly _sounded_ like Mr. Stark.

"I...w-what...what are you... _doing_ here?" The teen was finally able to choke out, now unconsciously trying to hide the shivers traveling up and down his body. The billionaire cocked a brow as he simply looked the teen up and down.

Apparently it was enough for Peter to get the message of _'I could ask you the same thing'_ as he let out a nervous chuckle and shifted his feet, stealing a small glance at the covered tarp-overhang he was inching towards. "Ah, just...p-picking up some g-groceries." He chuckled uneasily.

Tony noticed the slight stutter, but he was willing to bet it was more from the cold than anything else. "Uh-huh. And...you decided that the middle of a hurricane is the perfect time for you to get all excited about the Buy One Get One 25% off Cheetos or something?"

Peter gently tilted his head side to side in thought, something Tony was quickly picking up as another one of the boy's quirks.

"Actually, a storm like this wouldn't really be considered a hurricane considering the top wind speeds haven't topped the minimum for just a Category One storm and it's actually not all that uncommon for people to be out and about in weather like this cause it usually means the lines at the more commonly traversed places like malls and stores aren't as crowded as they usually are so people aren't as bothered by the huge swarms of people and can just slip in and out relatively faster than they usually can on a day with more calmer weather patterns and-"

He stopped as a small crumpled-up gum wrapper was thrown at his nose, harmlessly bouncing off before falling to his feet. However, it did the job of effectively shutting him up.

He stared at it for a moment before turning back up to look at Mr. Stark, who was shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose once more. "Kid, you're killing me here. All I'm asking is why you're out here at this particular time of night in this particular type of weather. Isn't there a better time to be doing grocery shopping? And don't give me the statistics. Cause I know for a fact that anyone crazy enough to be out here _willingly_ would at least have a small semblance of sense to bring an umbrella."

Peter quickly seemed to tense for a moment before falling limp once more, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "I d-didn't know it was gonna rain. Besides, today's Grocery Day. Meaning I need to get groceries _today_. Not tomorrow. Not the day after that. _Today._ Dad's orders." He added with a small smile and a shrug.

Judging from the look Tony gave him, it didn't have the effect he'd hoped for. He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the puddle pooling at his feet as he finally found a slight reprieve from the pouring rain as he stepped underneath the overhang he'd been eyeing before. However, without the continuous stream of rain pouring down onto him, he was finally able to feel just how soaked he truly was.

"Look, I wouldn't be out here if I didn't have to be, alright?" He muttered, glaring down at the ground as he felt his cheeks begin to grow warm underneath the scrutinizing stare of the billionaire before him. His fingers curled slightly behind his back as he prayed the man would just accept his answer and drive off.

Tony remained silent for a moment before cocking a brow. "Mm-hmm. And just _where_ is your father, exactly?"

Peter shrugged. "Said something about business. I don't know. I'm not supposed to - I _didn't_ ask." He faltered slightly before correcting himself, hoping Mr. Stark hadn't picked up on his slip.

If the billionaire caught his trip up, he didn't let it on as he glanced away and pressed his tongue to the side of his mouth. "So, nobody's expecting you home right now?"

The kid shook his head. "Nobody'd be there to notice." He explained. "Which I g-guess is a blessing. I can only imagine what the Cons would say if they saw me like this." He muttered with a roll of his eyes as he gestured to his soaking form, already imaging their laughs echoing in his head.

The man stared at him for a moment longer, taking in his waterlogged figure and shivering frame as droplets of water splashed down onto his papery-white nose, which only made his tawny eyes stand out even more. Finally, after a second of hesitation, the billionaire let out a long, exasperated sigh before leaning over towards the passenger side and throwing open the door.

"Get in."

Peter faltered slightly at that, cocking his head as strands of hair pressed against his forehead. "W-what?"

"We're closer to the tower than we are to your house and - _why_ _is that?_ Aren't there a ton of grocery stores near your house?" The man asked with a tone of confusion.

The teen shrugged his shoulders. "The stores near my house d-don't have the kind of beer the C-Cons like and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! How are you getting your hands on alcohol when you literally look like a ten-year-old?" The billionaire gaped, ignoring the indignant look Peter threw his way.

Choosing to ignore the remark, Peter huffed slightly. "I k-know the store owner out here. He knows how to keep a secret."

Tony couldn't help but scoff in disbelief as he shook his head and ran a hand down his face. Peter rubbed his arm slightly, the grocery bags jostling as he did so, unsure of if he'd made the man angry or not.

"Okay, I...whatever, just get in the frikkin car."

The teen shook his head, face growing distressed. "You r-really don't have to do that, Mr. Stark. I'm fine w-walking home."

"It's a thirty-minute walk." The man deadpanned.

"Not . . . .if I ignore the crosswalks and all safety precautions?"

They exchanged silent looks for a moment before Tony shook his head. "Nuh-uh, get in."

"Thank you, really. B-but I swear I'll be fine." Peter started, only to sigh as Tony cut him off once more.

"If by fine you mean great at catching pneumonia, then yeah. You're super. In. Now."

"R-really, it's alright."

"It's really not."

"I don't w-wanna...ruin the seats in your car."

"I literally have five of the exact same car, all in different colors."

"I...geez, you have way too much money."

"Eh."

The exchange swapped back and forth a few more times before Tony slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. "Damn it, kid! Just...get in the frikkin car! You're holding up traffic!"

Peter cocked a brow and craned his neck to look behind the car, taking note of the empty street before glancing back at the man. "You know what I mean. Just get in the car before I drag you in here myself."

"I think that technically counts as kidnapping, Mr. Stark."

"Peter, you're soaked to the bone."

The teen, in a rare feat of frustration, shook the bags in his hands and lightly stomped the ground before him with his foot. "Mr. Stark, I appreciate the offer. Really I do. But I'm perfectly capable of walking home by myself. Besides I-"

Before he could finish his statement, a loud ripping sound was heard as the tarp-covered overhang above his head finally gave way underneath the pressure of the water it was holding, releasing a torrent of rushing water flooding overtop Peter's head like a waterfall holding _gallons_ of water.

Tony said nothing as he watched the scene unfold, merely rested his cheek against a propped up fist and enjoyed with a relaxed smile on his face.

As the water finally emptied out, Peter stood still in his place, fists still tightly gripping the grocery bags as if his life depended on it as his face held a look of annoyance and resignation. "- couldn't possibly get any wetter." He finally finished with a strained voice.

Without another word, the teen trudged over to the open car door, socks squeaking at the water filling his shoes as he sat down in the plush leather seats, dropped the grocery bags onto the floor and slammed the car door shut, not even bothering in feeling nervous as his body was filled with nothing but annoyance.

Tony couldn't wipe the smirk off of his face as he reached behind him and grabbed a spare towel he kept in the back for emergencies, throwing it over towards the teen, who caught it without even looking up. "Thanks." He murmured softly as he began to scrub his face, only to pause as Tony reached into the back seats once more and pulled out a small pink cocktail umbrella, opening it up with his thumb and forefinger before handing it over to Peter.

"Never wanna be caught unprepared."

"What? For rain or surprise cocktails?"

"Either."

"Why do you even have this?"

"You have no idea the things this car has seen, kid. Trust me, you don't wanna know."

"Noted."

With that, the car began to speed off towards the tower, now with _two_ passengers in tow.

The rain had lightened slightly to the point where you could actually _see_ the road in front of you. The thick drops of water continuously streamed overtop the windows and windshield as the car sped down the road, the soft hum of the engine mingling with the gentle lull of the heater, which helped make the car warm and toasty inside.

Peter tapped his fingers against his knee as he stared out the window, chin propped up on his fist as he lazily watched the cars and pedestrians passing by on the street. He could feel the warmth of the heater blowing hot air around him, slowly drying his soaked clothes and dripping hair until they were left damp and slightly uncomfortable as they stuck to his skin, but much dryer than when he'd first entered the car, which he was grateful for.

However, the uncomfortableness of his clothes mirrored the uncomfortableness he was beginning to feel inside.

He'd resisted the urge to steal glances at Mr. Stark throughout the ride, keeping his eyes locked onto the raindrops sliding down his window, but he could almost _feel_ the man looking at him from time to time, scanning him, observing him. It made his skin prick up and his hands curl slightly into the hem of his shirt.

He hadn't been expecting to run into the man today. Usually, he was able to plan out a little more before they met, their scheduled meetings allowing him to do just this. Running scenarios in his head usually helped him ensure that he wouldn't slip up whenever he talked to the billionaire, a tick he revealed whenever he was frazzled, say...like walking home alone in the pouring rain.

At least when he was prepared, he was... _ready_ to meet the man. Assured slightly of their interaction and the confidence that he woudn't slip up and reveal something he wasn't supposed to.

At least when he was prepared, he knew not to let his guard down.

This, however, was an entirely different story. There had been no planning. No internal debates and monologues. This had been sudden. Unexpected. _Unprepared._ He had no plan. No backup plan. No backup to the backup plan. He had nothing. He was just a kid sitting in the car of a man who threatened everything he'd been hiding and working to perfect for almost ten years now.

However, as he sat there and absentmindedly counted the raindrops as they appeared on his window, he couldn't help but think that maybe his nervousness came from something else. That maybe it wasn't just the threat of spilling something he wasn't supposed to that had him all jittery. That maybe...it was the threat of jeopardizing their progress.

Peter wasn't an idiot. He knew that Mr. Stark was trying to get him to open up, trying to get him to ease and warm up to him. Why? He had no idea. He was _still_ trying to figure out why the billionaire even wanted him _around,_ let along wanted him to relax around him. But, the teen would be lying if he said it wasn't working.

He could see it in the way he walked, lifting his head more instead of tucking his chin near his chest. He could see it in the way he spoke, not tripping over his words as much around the billionaire as with other people. He could see it in the way he acted, smiling and laughing without restraint, checking and correcting himself on a much smaller scale compared to when he was home.

He was...changing. And that was dangerous.

And he _knew_ this. He _knew_ it was dangerous just as he knew it was dangerous to stay so close to May. And yet, with every joke he laughed at, every invention they brainstormed together, every...meeting they had, Peter found himself craving their interactions just a little bit more each and every time.

So maybe _that_ was why he was so nervous about interacting with the man without any sort of plan or preparation. Because the more he left it up to change, the higher the risk of saying something stupid or doing something dumb that made Mr. Stark realize just how useless it was keeping him around.

Without a plan, he ran a risk of jeopardizing their progress.

Not able to restrain himself any longer, the teen stole a small peek at the man sitting across from him. Tony hadn't said anything since he'd entered the car, simply keeping one lazy hand on the wheel as he rested the other one on the side of his door, resting a cheek against his fist in a similar fashion to the teen.

Peter stared at him for a moment longer before lowering his gaze to stare down into his lap.

 _Whatever you do, Parker. DON'T blow this..._ _cause it's the only thing going right in your life right now._

Tony glanced over at the boy right as he turned away and stared down at his lap. The billionaire noticed the tenseness of his hands and the stiffness in his shoulders and tried to suppress a sigh. He hadn't even _said_ anything yet and the kid was already nervous.

Having decided it would be best to keep the car ride quiet to avoid any awkward conversations they couldn't escape from seeing as how they were both in a moving vehicle and he really didn't feel like jumping out of a window anytime soon, Tony silently listened to the raindrops splatter onto the roof of his car, tiny drumbeats rhythmically dancing around the metal.

Resisting the urge to glance back at the kid next to him, he decided to try and take his mind off of him as well.

Pepper and Rhodey probably wouldn't be expecting him back so soon after he'd stormed off, so they'd probably have the penthouse to themselves. He supposed this little meeting had its silver linings considering Pepper and Rhodes would refrain from lecturing him anymore tonight while Peter was around.

The raindrops began to fall harder as Tony started to devise up an impromptu plan.

The kid was still pretty... _drippy_ so he'd grab him some dry clothes (considering how small the teen was, they probably wouldn't fit him well but dry was dry) and maybe force him to eat something before getting Happy to drive him back home.

Short and sweet. Right to the point. After all, that was all he really needed to do. Dry him up, get him food, then send him on his way. Hopefully, he'd be able to fulfill that plan better than his previous failed plan twenty minutes ago, which had resulted in a soaking teen ruining the seats in his car.

The rest of the ride was completed in silence, neither party wanting to stir up the already tense air between them. Instead, they simply listened to the soundtrack that was the rainstorm currently showering down around them. The clouds overhead had begun to fade into the background of the already deepening sky now that the sun had officially gone down and nighttime was stretching over the skies. Black melded with black and the atmosphere above resembled a pool of spilled tar with swirls of dark grey that slashed and twisted between each other in intricate dances.

The rain hissed in the air as the car drove past, water splashing up along the sidewalks, the storefronts, the windows. Thick black drops clinging to everything like spilled ink dripping from a pen made the city around them dark and bleak with rare sheens of light from the water-slicked metal surfaces reflecting the lights of Town Square behind them.

The wavering atmosphere and dark undertones seemed to fill their senses to a degree so high that Tony barely even realized when they were approaching the tower, nearly missing his turn.

Nevertheless, the car quickly pulled into the tower's pathway, the restricted gates automatically opening from the sensors on his car as he quickly sped past, the telltale electric hum behind him notifying him that the blocker had once again been activated as they'd passed. With that, they pulled around towards the back side of the tower, dipping down onto the path towards the parking garage.

As they approached a covered awning that led to the garage, the pouring rain suddenly ceased as they reached cover, the thick silence quickly muffling their ears in a stark contrast to the pounding hissing from before.

Quickly pulling into his usual parking spot, Tony quickly shut off the engine, the car falling silent once more. Peter, who seemed to have been zoning out for most of the ride, jumped as Tony opened the door and stepped out of the car, the teen quickly fumbling with the handle as he did the same.

Now that he was moving again, the teen was annoyingly aware of just how damp and uncomfortable his clothes still were, shivering slightly at the cool atmosphere of the underground garage. Eyes falling on the billionaire as he walked past, Peter fell into line behind him.

Making their way over towards the elevator near the back of the garage, Tony moved to the side and allowed the younger charge into the elevator before stepping in himself, the doors closing behind them.

"Take us up to the penthouse, Fri." Tony called, the elevator humming to life without a sound, the AI quickly doing as she was told with no hesitation.

Peter said nothing as he shuffled slightly from one foot to the other, casually trying to wrap his arms around himself as to not let Mr. Stark notice while also trying to gain a little bit of warmth back into the air-conditioned space.

Despite his best efforts to conceal it, Tony obviously took notice of the teen's shivering, for it wasn't even a second latter before he called out once more. "And cut the air conditioning while you're at it, Fri."

" _Yes, boss."_

Peter cast the man a meek glance but quickly looked back down towards the floor, deciding it best to just keep his mouth shut. It was safer that way, he told himself as he simply stared at his shoes, the toes scuffing against the metal floor.

If Tony caught on to the teen's nervousness, he said nothing about it, which Peter was grateful for.

After another minute or so, the elevator slowed to a stop before the doors opened onto a floor that Peter now recognized as the floor Tony had brought him to on Wednesday, everything looking exactly the same.

Tony wasted no time in stepping out of the elevator, Peter quickly following after him. He jolted to a stop, however, when the man whirled around to face him. "Hold up here for a sec, kid. I'll be right back." He murmured, the teen staring at him for a second before nodding his head, watching as the man turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway next to the kitchen, leaving Peter along in the grand room.

For a moment, the teen simply stood there, unsure as to whether or not he was allowed to walk around the penthouse floor. Considering he'd already bee up here before, he could very well assume he was. Then again, Mr. Stark had been present then, so maybe the man didn't want him snooping without him to supervise where he did and didn't stick his nose.

Nevertheless, Peter couldn't help but let his curiosity get the best of him as his eyes caught sight of the large glass walls exposing the city below them. His shoes squelched against the cold floor below as he walked over, peering out of the transparent walls and down towards the street below.

The rain hadn't let up on their drive. If anything, it was coming down harder than before. The sky above looked like the world below was on fire and all of the ash and smoke had caught in the atmosphere, shrouding the land in complete darkness, save for a few swirled of dark grey clouds and deep blue trails. The rain splattered hard against the glass, thick drops sliding down, mingling together before falling back down towards the Earth in large sheets of water.

Peter's bright hazel eyes drifted upwards as he caught sight of a bright flash of light that split the sky, crackling to life as it illuminated the clouds and sparked through the air like sparklers shining in the night before it instantly disappeared as quickly as it'd come.

The teen tore his gaze away after a second, turning to take in the penthouse once more, only to jump and let out a small yelp as a clap of thunder shook the floor and tore at his eardrums, the entire tower seeming to quake at the full force of the explosion-like cacophony.

Peter stumbled backwards and gripped the nearby couch, fingers curling tightly into the material as his wide eyes stared out towards the window, watching the raindrops continue to pound against the glass like wild animals clawing at their cages, desperate the reach the inhabitants on the other side. He panted slightly, breathy gasps dribbling from his lips as he tried to get his frantic heartbeat under control.

Another roll of thunder cracked through the atmosphere, Peter flinching violently at the sound.

 _It's...it's just thunder. It's just thunder._

He repeated the mantra to himself as he rubbed a hand against his collarbone, determined to calm himself from his ridiculous panic. Still, it was hard not to envision the telltale crack of gunshots in his mind as another bang rattled around the tower. Nevertheless, he couldn't let Mr. Stark see how childish he was being. So the teen quickly sucked in a breath, shut his eyes tightly as another roll fo thunder sounded, and forced himself to release his grip on the couch.

 _You're fine. Everything's okay._

" _Shh, shh, shh, baby. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."_

Peter couldn't help but let out a small sigh at that as he finally opened his eyes once more, folding his arms protectively over his chest as he seemed to deflate, sliding down to sit on the ground with his back leaning against the couch.

He'd been afraid of thunder every since he was four-years-old.

Suddenly feeling more more exhausted than he had been before, Peter shut his eyes and rested his head on his knees, muscles coiling with each crack of thunder that rolled past, though he continued to keep his breathing under control.

Tony watched from the corner of the room, his shoulder pressing into the side of the wall as he stood, half-concealed in the hallway. He stared at the boy, who tensed and curled in tighter with each roll of thunder, looking absolutely miserable, his soaked appearance not helping in the slightest.

The billionaire couldn't help but sigh at the sight, running a hand down his face as he suddenly felt just as tired as Peter looked to be. For about the hundredth time since he'd decided to make the kid his intern, Tony once again wondered what he'd gotten himself into as he rounded the corner and approached the teen.

He fully expected Peter to bolt to his feet and act like he'd never even moved from his original spot in the first place. However, he was genuinely surprised when the teen did nothing but wearily lift his head, eyes heavy and dull as he stared up at the billionaire.

For a moment, the two did nothing. They simply stared at one another, drinking in the looks on each other's faces. Their eyes, similar in color, held so many differences. One's weak and faded, pain and anguish flowing through the hazel irises while the other held emptiness, loneliness, a missing elements of sorts. Something that had once been there, but was now gone.

Unable to bear the reflections they saw in each other, they turned away, Tony extending out a sweater towards the boy. Peter hesitated for a moment before taking the article of clothing, a soft murmur of gratitude falling from his lips as Tony directed him towards the nearest bathroom so he could change.

The boy's retreating footsteps echoed softly throughout the room, painfully reminding Tony of the emptiness that was once a full and bustling tower. Glancing over at the rain sliding down his windows, the man trudged over to the kitchen and plopped down in one of the chairs, resting an elbow on the counter as he placed his head into the palm of one of his hands.

The dreary weather outside perfectly matched the storm brewing inside of him. Today had been nothing but one shitty thing after another. Getting hounded by Ross, lectured by Pepper and Rhodey, and now Peter, as if today hadn't been enough of a roller coaster.

As he thought back to it, Tony couldn't help but drift back over Ross, his argument with the others echoing in the back of his mind like the soft footsteps around the tower.

It wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Ross was used to getting what he wanted. So the longer Tony refused him, the angrier and more desperate he'd become. But still, was it worth giving into Ross's demands? Doing his dirty work? Getting him involved with the people around him?

He froze at that last thought. There weren't many people around him at _all_ nowadays. Mainly just Pepper and Rhodey. Happy usually got dragged into whatever they'd do and Vision...well, Tony didn't know if the android was even in the _states._ He assumed not. He didn't really ask too many questions. The android never really gave too many answers.

But still, if today's recent encounters had taught him anything, it was that his list of people had just expanded, cause now he had Peter. Now, he knew that Pepper could hold her own against even the scariest bureaucrats, and Rhodey was a pro at handling the politics and lawmakers nowadays. But Peter? Peter was just a kid. A kid who was involved with him now.

That already put the teen at a disadvantage.

Still, it made Tony realize that with Ross came the threat of having the Secretary closer. Having him snoop. Having his watchful eye on him and those around him, including Peter.

The man dwelled on the thought for a moment longer before quickly resolving himself to a decision.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't help Ross. Not because it'd mean stepping off of his pedestal and falling under the orders of another. Not because it threatened the safety of his ex-teammates. Not even because he absolutely despised the man with every fiber in his being.

But because he couldn't put Peter in danger like that. He refused to. Ross would have to fight him tooth and nail just to get a _glimpse_ of the kid. And even then, Tony would never budge. Cause Ross had already messed with him, messed with his friends, his family.

But he wasn't getting Peter. He _refused_ to give him the satisfaction.

Before Tony could question why he was fighting so hard for a kid he'd only known for a short time, Peter returned.

A large AC-DC logo was plastered onto the front of the large black sweater, the dark color only making the usual paleness of the teen stand out even more, save for the light flush of pink around his nose and cheeks. However, the sweater was obviously made for someone much bigger than him, for it drooped past his waist and swallowed his hands, the sleeves extending out past his fingertips, the fabric flopping around with each move of his arms.

Tony couldn't help but let out a snicker at the sight of the boy, who now looked to be even younger than usual, if such a thing were even possible. "Geez, kid. You look like you should be selling cookies for Cub Scouts or something."

Peter couldn't help but scrunch his nose at that, the look losing much of its intimidation as he flopped the sleeves of the sweater around. "You're the one that gave me the sweater that looks like it was made for the Hulk."

"You're warm, aren't you?"

"Yeah, a warm Cub Scout."

Tony scoffed in amusement before beckoning the teen over, Peter slowly making his way over as the billionaire hopped off of the stool and Peter replaced him. The man moved to enter the kitchen before turning back towards the kid. "Now, I'm not much of a betting man, mainly cause I've been banned from nearly all the casinos in Vegas, but I think I'm safe to assume that you haven't eaten anything recently, hmm?

Peter opened his mouth, only to pause as his stomach gave a loud gurgle. Tony cocked a brow while Peter gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. "I...I was gonna eat s-something when I got home." _(He knows you're lying.)_

"Right. Well, what'll it be, kid?" The man asked, ignoring the fact that feeding this kid now seemed to be a regular thing. Whatever. He had food to spare. He had a _lot_ to spare.

Peter thought about it for a moment, seeming to only hesitate slightly before answering with a tilt of his head, brown curls draping to the side. "Do you have any cereal?"

Tony furrowed his brows at that and leaned towards the kid as he rested his elbow on the counter. "Cereal? Really? You... _do_ know I'm a billionaire right? Not even, like, _gourmet_ cereal?"

Peter let out a small laugh before shaking his head. Tony blew out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say, kid," he mused before heading over to the clouded doors near the back of the kitchen. Knocking his fist against the glass, the clouded effect instantly dissipated, leaving clear glass that allowed him to see inside of the large space.

Seeming to find what he was looking for, Tony opened the door and grabbed a few boxes from the upper shelves of the pantry, shutting the door with the back of his foot as he dropped the boxes in front of the sitting teen. Grabbing a few bowls and a couple of spoons, he returned and watched as Peter inspected the boxes for a moment before grabbing the Coco Puffs.

Pouring himself a bowl, Peter couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Tony looked up and threw him a look. "What?"

The teen shook his head. "Nothing. It's just..." He trailed off for a moment unsure as to whether or not he should continue before shrugging. "...I wouldn't have expected someone like you to have Coco Puffs and Fruity Pebbles in their pantry."

Tony couldn't help but huff in amusement at that before roughly jerking the box of Fruity Pebbles into his hand. "What? Just cause I'm a billionaire means I can't like Fruity Pebbles. Their _magically delicious,_ Peter!"

"That's Lucky Charms."

"Same difference!"

The teen laughed as he poured some milk into his bowl, sliding it over towards the man before stirring his spoon around in the liquid. Tony did the same before glancing back up towards the boy. "So." He plopped the milk carton back down onto the counter, Peter lifting his head to look at him. "What's with you and breakfast?"

The crack of thunder that rolled outside timed up perfectly with the teen as he tilted his head and furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

The billionaire shrugged as he stirred his cereal. "Well I'm just saying. For the last couple times you've been over here, it's been like a breakfast bar in a shitty hotel." He shrugged. "We even had a traumatic kitchen nightmare experience where breakfast was my doom and downfall." He pointed his spoon threateningly at the kid. "Thanks, by the way, for making me hate anything to do with eggs now."

Peter chuckled at that. He thought about the man's words for a moment, taking that time to place a spoonful of cereal into his mouth before swallowing. He tapped the spoon against the side of the bowl, a soft _tinking_ sound reaching their ears before the boy finally responded.

"Back when I was little, w-we didn't really have a lot of money. P-Parkstem Labs hadn't really expanded into anything big so...b-basically we just kinda scrounged by." He explained, the billionaire across from him listening intently. "And considering we were kinda living from paycheck to paycheck, our pantry wasn't always...fully stocked."

He shrugged his shoulders, swirling the spoon in the cereal once more as another rumble of thunder echoed outside. "M-my mom would have to figure out how to make the best out of what we had, which was usually a few leftover eggs, some miscellaneous meats and tons and tons of beat-up discount cereal boxes."

"I-I was pretty young at the time so I didn't really notice that we'd constantly be having...like, breakfast for dinner or egg sandwiches or cereal buffets as my m-mom would call them." He chuckled. " She'd basically just line up all the boxes we had and pour me a little bit from each one, which now that I'm thinking about it...k-kinda seems a little gross."

"A little?" Tony echoed with skepticism, smirking as Peter let out a humored huff.

The billionaire couldn't help but grow just a little happier as he saw Peter's face crack into a grin as the teen laughed to himself. "You know, actually...n-now that I'm thinking about it...she'd do a lot of stuff like that. She'd dress t-the vacuum cleaner up like a monster and let me chase it around the house, she'd make little origami creatures and string them all around the house, she'd even make little forts with me in the k-kitchen using the dining room table." He chuckled.

Tony couldn't help but smile himself at the happiness spreading on the boy's face.

Peter continued to stare down at the swirling bowl of milk in front of him before letting out a small sigh and shrugging his shoulders. "It seems stupid now, I guess. I mean, breakfast had always been my favorite meal of the day and I love those little origami things and building forts is still the coolest thing so I guess it's c-cause of stuff like that, but...I don't know. Just d-doesn't seem like the type of thing you'd remember." He murmured. "Just seems...so small, like...like such a little thing."

He lowered his gaze. "But...I guess it's t-the little things I remember the most, you know?"

Tony stared at him for a moment, unsure as to how to respond. The boy didn't seem to want to say anything more, for he grabbed his spoon and lifted more cereal to his mouth, effectively shutting himself up.

The billionaire said nothing in return, too lost in his own thoughts to really put anything into words. For a moment, he simply stared down at the swirling flakes of cereal swimming in the bowl of milk on the counter. The soft clinking of metal spoons reached their ears, the only sound in the empty tower save for the pounding of rain on the windows and the occasional crack of thunder from outside that left low rumbles shivering throughout the kitchen.

"They were for the team."

Peter startled in his seat at the sudden words, lifting his head to stare at the billionaire. "What?"

Tony seemed to hesitate for a moment before giving a shrug of his shoulders, leaning back in his chair. "All those boxes of cereal...the only reason I have them is cause the other Avengers used to eat like, twenty boxes a week." He murmured with a shrug. "Figured I had to be stocked at all times. But nowadays, there aren't many people to finish them off." He twirled his spoon around. "So they just kinda sit there collecting dust."

Peter stared at the man for a moment. To anyone else, Tony would have seemed as indifferent as always, leaning back, posture relaxed, eyes watching the spoon and the trials it left in the milk. However, Peter noticed the small details. The slight tenseness in the man's shoulders. The way his fingers twitched ever so slightly. The tapping of his foot against the floor.

It was obvious the man was uncomfortable in sharing what he'd just shared.

So why had he? It wasn't like Peter had pressed him on it or anything. He'd shared it by his own volition, as if he'd made himself to it out of some sort of obligation. Despite the confusion the teen obviously felt on the subject, he couldn't help but be a bit curious. After all, it wasn't everyday that Mr. Stark brought up the Avengers, meaning such a topic was now open for discussion, if only for a moment.

"W-which Avenger would eat what?" His small voice chimed in.

Tony glanced up at him, drinking in his question. Peter was right in thinking that opening such a topic had been uncomfortable for the billionaire. In fact, it was about his least favorite subject nowadays right alongside the Accords and Ross. And yet, hearing the boy open up about his mother, a topic Tony was _sure_ could he a definite sore spot for the boy in certain circumstances, Tony couldn't help but feel... _obligated_ to share something as well. After all, if the boy could trust him enough to share something painful, then maybe Tony could as well.

Even if it _was_ just cereal preferences.

With that thought in mind, the man smirked. "Well, Natasha, or Black Widow as more people know her by, would usually just stick to some black coffee. But there were days where I'd catch her with some Coco Puffs." He chuckled, Peter smiling across the counter. "Clint, or Hawkeye would usually fight over the Fruity Pebbles with Sam. Wanda, whenever she wasn't attempting to make biscuits that weren't burnt black would typically go for some Honey Nut Cheerios, and Thor, on the rare occasions he was here, loved eating Lucky Charms." The billionaire rolled his eyes. "He said something about them bringing him _fortune_ throughout the day or some shit like that."

Peter couldn't help but laugh as the billionaire chuckled alongside him.

The teen quieted for a moment before glancing back up. "And Captain America?"

Tony paused at that, falling silent for a moment as his face fell neutral. Peter winced inwardly for a moment, fearing he might have stepped to far, only to let out a breath as Tony shrugged his shoulders. "Basically what you'd expect. An all-round stereotypical American breakfast: eggs, bacon, white toast, orange juice, and like thirty bowls of Frosted Flakes." He scoffed, Peter letting out a chuckle.

The billionaire let out a sigh of annoyance as he waved a hand in the air. "Yeah, well. Now I got like a hundred boxes of cereal with nobody to eat them." He muttered with a scoff that _tried_ to convey more frustration than sadness.

Key word: _tried_

Peter was quick to pick up on this, however, as he paused for a moment before letting a smile slip onto his face. "Well, I don't know , Mr. Stark. I-I have a pretty big appetite, so I should be able to help you out there."

Tony stared at him for a moment before letting a small smile of his own pass over his face. "I'll hold you to that."

The two stared at each other for a second longer, each understanding the underlying messages passing between their words. Tony, not one for emotional moments, was quick in pulling away and clearing his throat. "Yeah, well, just steer clear of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, alright? Pepper and Rhodey are still pissed about the whole _'Spider-Man not even being old enough to drive'_ thing. I'd hate to see what they'd do to me if I let you eat all their cereal."

"...what?"

Tony lifted his head at the small voice. "Huh?"

Peter stared back at the man, fingers twitching as his muscles coiled, eyes filling with dread and fear. "W-what did you say?" The boy whispered out, voice shaky and terse.

Tony, who was now reading the back of the Fruity Pebbles box let out a humored huff. "Alright, _fine_. I'll just buy some more Cinnamon Toast Crunch if you're so set on it. But honestly, I don't know what you guys see in that tasteless garb-"

"N-no, no. W...what was t-that you said a-about P-Pepper...and Rhodey...a-and..." Tony finally looked up as he caught wind of the boy's stuttering response, such a thing never a good sign. Neither was the fact that the boy's face held a look of resigned terror.

"T-they...they know? They know I'm Spider-Man?" ( _I told you.)_

The man stared back at Peter for a moment, masking the unsettled feelings passing over him at the looks on the teen's face by shrugging his shoulder and hoping his calm demeanor would somehow reflect off of the boy. "Just the stuff I told them and-"

He didn't get to finish as Peter let out an audible choke of air. "G-god, you-" He stuttered, hands curling into fists as he stared with wide, fear-filled eyes. He licked his lips, a small breathy chuckle falling from his lips. Though from the pained look on his face, it was obvious the boy wasn't amused at all. "You...I-I...I thought you...y-you said you w-wouldn't..." None of the sentences ever made it to completion however as the teen found himself short of breath all of a sudden.

"Y-you _told_ them." It wasn't a question. _(You did this to yourself.)_

Tony quickly picked up on where the situation was headed, standing up from his seat. "Wait a minute now-"

However, as soon as the man made to move closer, Peter was stumbling out of his seat as well, the metal stool clattering to the floor with a loud _clang_. Tony winced at the sound as Peter shakily backed up, the rumbling thunder outside doing little to calm his frayed nerves as he pointed a shaky finger towards the man. "I thought you...and t-the...oh, god."

He was lying. The man was lying. He _had_ to be lying. There was no way he'd done it. None. He couldn't believe it. He _wouldn't_ believe it.

" _You seriously think someone like Tony is going to back you up when it comes to Ross ad his personal agendas or whatever?"_

Sam's words rang painfully in the back of his head as he tried and failed to convince himself that he was overreacting. That the man hadn't just jeopardized his one sense of calm and security, that he _hadn't_ just broken the small semblance of trust the teen was starting to feel.

The doubt that had been plaguing his mind ever since his run-in with the Falcon slowly began to bubble to the surface. The fears that had been plaguing him ever since he'd wondered about what the Accords would mean for him, what they would entail with his identity, the danger that would come from exposing it. The more people that knew who he was, the greater threat it was to him.

He'd taken solace in the fact that Mr. Stark had been around the only true person who knew, the only person he'd hoped to trust with such a secret.

But, of course, he'd been wrong. So. _F_ _ucking. Wrong. (You've just jeapordized everything. They'll find out. They always find out eventually.)_

Kid just listen to me for a second here." Tony tried to say, but he wasn't too sure Peter had even heard him as the teen let out another laugh of disbelief, face pale and cheeks red as his body jerked with another crash of lightning igniting from outside, illuminating the darkening tower in piercing white light for a split second before falling dim once more.

"I...I-I thought you...How _could you?!"_ Peter exclaimed, shaky voice slowly building up as the teen's fearful expression began to morph into one of anger and his shaking hands slowly curled into fists. This _wasn't_ happening. He _refused_ to believe that his once source of levity was beginning to crumble around him. His past suspicious were now coming to light. ( _Rule 1, Rule 1, Rule 1)_

And yet...something strange began to happen. Instead of the usual feelings of sadness and sorrow that usually followed such disappointments, Peter was shocked at the feelings of heat and anger that began to pool in his chest.

 _"You think he's not gonna rat you out, expose you to that government douchebag?"_

He was tired of it. Tired of getting let down all the time. Tired of having the things he cared about messed up and ruined by people he wished he could trust. He was sick and tired of things always going wrong.

But this time...this time he wasn't staying quiet. This time...he was _upset,_ and everyone was going to know it. For the first time, the ones to blame would _know_ exactly what he was thinking, what he was feeling. And he didn't care what it cost.

What the hell did he have to lose anyway?

"Peter-" Tony called, reaching out to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. ( _Get away. Get away.)_

 _Please! You can't be_ that _naive!"_

" **NO!"** Peter roared, wrenching his arm back as his eyes blazed and his hands curled into fists. Tony reared back at the sudden shout, only to falter as the teen glared daggers at him. "I knew it! I **knew** it! I knew I couldn't trust you!" The teen snarled, fists shaking at his sides as he screamed. "I knew you'd do this! I knew you'd lie to me! That you _had_ been lying to me!"

Tony stared at the teen with wide eyes, mouth agape at the screams being thrown at him. He'd only ever seen the teen shout in such a manner once, and even then, it had been more out of desperation than true anger. But this time...this time it wasn't just anger. It was pain. _Fury._

The teen pressed his palms into his eyes. "God, I am _such_ an idiot!" He snarled. "I never should have listened to you. I **never** should have agreed to all of this in the first place!" He lifted his head back up once more, eyes blazing. "Was that your plan all along? Drag me along and get my secrets?" He let out a bitter scoff as he gestured towards himself. "Well, now you got 'em! Congratulations, Mr. Stark! What's next? Blackmail me into doing whatever you want? Or did you just want insurance for when you finally get tired of me and decide you want me gone?!"

In the back of his head, Peter knew that the things he was thinking about perhaps weren't pure truth. After all, there was a big gap between disclosing secrets between colleagues and disclosing secrets between government officials. But the teen couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was obvious that Stark considered _his_ secret open to disclose. And that was enough to have the boy spiraling into a panic.

After all, the more people who knew, the higher the chance of something happening...of his _father..._ He couldn't even finish the thought. So he settled for anger.

"P-Peter..." The man could barely even speak, at a loss for words at the sudden turn of events.

"Shut up!" The boy snapped. "God, I can't believe it! I can't _fucking_ believe it! Just when I was finally beginning to open up to you...is that what you wanted...?" His voice wavered slightly at that. "Get me to warm up to you just to turn around at the last second? Is that what you fucking wanted?" ( _runrunrunrunrun)_

The man shook his head in disbelief. "No, kid listen I-"

"Save it. It's obvious now that I can't trust you. Not with this. Not with...not with anything." The boy stared back at him for a moment before shaking his head and glaring down at the ground. "I don't know why I'm so surprised. I guess it just means you're a pretty good actor. Had me fooled." He growled before clutching his head. " _God..._ god, god, GOD!" He shuddered. "You're gonna tell him aren't you?" His body was suddenly racked with shivers as another flash of lightning rocketed through the tower.

"Peter-"

"Y-you're gonna tell him and it's all gonna be over!"

"Peter!"

"How could you **do** this?!"

" **Peter!** Listen to me!" Tony shouted, suddenly appearing right in front of the boy as he gripped his shoulders tightly, not even caring if the boy approved or not. Peter, too distraught to even seem aware of the contact, stared up at the man with wide, fear-wracked eyes, hazel irises wavering in anguish.

"Kid..." The man panted, heart pounding from the sudden events that had unfolded. "...I didn't tell them."

Peter stared up at him, chest heaving as he fought to keep from collapsing to the floor in complete and udder exhaustion from the energy he'd expended from his screaming. And yet, he was still aware enough to hear the man's words, muscles tensing as they reached his ears. "...w-what?"

Before Tony could answer him, another crack of thunder shook from outside, Peter tensing underneath his grip. The billionaire growled at the noise before glaring up at the ceiling. "FRIDAY, deal with that damn noise."

"Yes, boss." The AI responded, quieter than usual. Peter wondered if he simply imagined it.

As the windows turned a slight tint darker, Tony turned back to the boy, staring down at the kid who suddenly looked much younger, with his cheeks and nose red from unshed tears and his curls unruly and messy as they flopped down around his eyes.

"Ah geez, kid..." The man sighed, tightening his grip on the boy's shoulders in an attempt at assurance. If anything, they just made Peter wince.

Tony dropped his hands and slowly ambled his way over towards the couch, plopping down on the seats with a loud sigh. Peter stared at him, distrust gleaming in his eyes. His heart ached painfully, but the boy resisted releasing any tears. Anger was one thing, but he _refused_ to break down into an emotionless wreck in front of the man again. Ever since that first day in the lab, the oath had hung in the back of his head.

Nevertheless, he watched as Tony rested his head in one hand as he used the other to rub the back of his neck. "It was when you first came to visit the tower. The first time they really... _met_ you." He murmured. "They figured it out for themselves."

Peter stared at him, body remaining motionless as he stood, eyes falling over the man as he sat hunched on the couch, the teen feeling his fingers twitch at his sides. "H-how'd they find out?" He had to know. Was it something he did? Something he said? Was his secret at a much greater risk of discovery than he'd first thought?

Tony blew out a small breath. "When I was first looking into you, researching Spider-Man and all that crap...I had Pepper keep tabs of all your activities, anything and everything mentioning you. I had her store them on an encrypted file database." He explained before wincing. "Which...is also where I kept the information on one Peter Parker."

Said boy felt his stomach clenching in unease at the man's words. "Pepper pieced it together from that, Rhodey from his encounters with Spider-Man in Germany." He continued. "They approached me. Told me they'd found out and..." He trailed off for a moment. "I couldn't exactly lie to them. Not when they already knew what they knew. So I told them the rest."

Peter stood still for a moment longer before taking slow, small steps over towards one of the seats adjacent to the couch, quietly sitting down as he folded his hands together and hung his head down to look at the ground. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke up, voice quiet. "Does anyone else have access to those files?" He whispered.

Tony shook his head. "Nobody."

If the teen was reassured by such a fact, he didn't show it as he ran both his hands down his face and blew out a long, tired sigh. Suddenly, the tower seemed much colder, darker, tinged in grays.

"They aren't going to tell anybody, you know."

"Yeah? H-how can you be so sure?"

"Cause I know them, kid." Tony shot back, turning to look at the boy. "Look, Pete. This...this isn't my secret to tell, alright? If you don't want people to know, then I won't tell them anything." He explained. "I promi-"

"Don't!" Peter snapped, eyes suddenly flashing. "Don't use that word. It means nothing." He growled out. Tony said nothing at that.

Peter felt his hands tighten as he continued to stare at the floor, the look turning more into a glare at the man's words. "And what about Secretary Ross?" Even though they weren't close to each other, Peter could have sworn he felt Tony tense nonetheless. "If...if he were to ask...what would you tell him?" He asked, lifting his head to stare the man dead in the eyes.

Tony held his gaze, dark brown eyes boring into light hazel. For a moment, neither said anything, once again caught in the other's gaze. Tony was the first to blink back into reality as his gaze hardened. "I'd tell him to go fuck himself."

Peter stared at the man, face never changing in its neutral look before he lowered his head down once more, eyes hidden by his curls as they fell down overtop his forehead.

Now that the windows were soundproof, there was nothing to fill the silence that quickly overtook the two, the tower settling into absolute silence as the atmosphere instantly thickened into a palpable uncomfortableness that neither knew how to remedy. It was hard to ignore the obvious problems that had plagued both of their minds for the few months they'd been in contact.

Trust.

Peter still _refused_ to grant the man any sort of faith, display that he felt any semblance of confidence in the man. If anything, the previous scene had just displayed how much he _didn't_ trust him.

And yet...it had also displayed how angry he'd become at the notion of betrayal. If Peter hadn't been planning on trusting the man at all, then his supposed "betrayal" shouldn't have evoked as much emotion as it had. And yet, the teen had been visibly upset to the point where he'd ignored all inhibitions and had simply let go, as if he _hadn't_ been expecting to feel betrayed. As if such a thing truly did shock him. Maybe...just maybe he really _did_ want to trust the man. Tony couldn't help but linger on such as fact as he glanced over at the boy.

Peter stared at the ground for a moment longer before lifting his hands to his face, a loud groan escaping his lips, muffled by his palms. "God, I...I'm so sorry." He murmured out, muscles tense.

Before Tony could even open his mouth to respond, the teen was speaking again. "It's just...this...this is all so messed up." He sighed, leaning back as he rested his head against the back of the chair, body slumping in defeat. "There's so much I wanna get over. SO much I wanna just forget and toss away, start to relax and unwind and whatever else you wanted me to do here. It's just...that's a lot easier said than done." He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The billionaire decided to remain quiet, allowing the boy to ramble his thoughts away. Maybe he'd slip up and disclose something important. God knew the kid would never tell him purposefully. So he'd just have to hope for an accident.

"I _do_ like it here, you know." Peter murmured. "The tower, t-the cool robots, the inventions, the suits, even y-your friends. All of it is just... _so_ much different from what I'm used to. You're all so...open and...trusting." He sighed wistfully. "I just...I can barely even understand it most of the time." He added with a small huff of amusement. Tony couldn't help but grimace at the meaning behind the teen's words.

"And...and I like our whole ' _intern'_ thing. I...I _like_ coming to...t-to work with you. I like...being with you. I just...I don't know. I feel...something. I-I can't really explain it. It's just...there. And I like it. I _like_ that feeling I get when I come here, when I'm with you. It makes me feel... _safe."_

The small smile that had appeared on the boy's face quickly morphed into a look of exhaustion as he leaned forward once more and rubbed his face. "God, that's what makes this so much harder."

"Makes what harder?" The billionaire finally spoke up.

" _This._ Talking to you. Being...being _around_ you. You're just like May!"

At that, Tony cocked a brow and tilted his head. "May?" he asked, wondering the the teen had meant to disclose the information. Judging from the way the teen's face didn't instantly lose all remaining color, Tony was willing to bet he had.

"May." He sighed. "She's been my neighbor for... _ever_. S-she was friends with my mom. She...she's nice." He mused with a small, warm smile that Tony noticed as genuine. Whoever this woman was, Peter obviously felt comfortable around her. "She cares about me, has cared about me for the last ten years or so. Other than you, she's...basically the only other adult I talk to on a regular basis...you know, of my own free will."

The teen stared down at his hands. "I love May. I love being with her, talking to her. She reminds me of my mom...in a good way, I mean. It's just...s-she..." He trailed off before throwing Tony an unsure look "I...don't really know how to explain it."

"You don't have to, kid." The man reassured him.

Peter nodded. "The point is...whenever I talk to May, I feel...relaxed. Calm. I'm not nervous about anything. And because of that...I talk _more._ And that's...bad."

The billionaire shook his head. "No it's not k-"

"Yes, it is." Peter shot back. "Alright? You...you don't get it, Mr. Stark. The more...comfortable I am with someone...the more likely I'm gonna say something I shouldn't. The more likely a slip-up is. And I _can't afford_ slip-ups, alright? I just can't." He stressed, resting his head in his hands once more.

"And that's what I'm afraid of here. I'm...I'm scared I'm gonna say something I'm not supposed to, something that end up causing a lot more trouble than its's worth. But..." HE sighed, shaking his head. "You're...y-you're just..."

Tony leaned forward. "Just what, kid?"

Peter stared at him for a moment before licking his lips. "You're just so easy to talk to."

"And why's that?"

The teen paused for a moment before letting a small smile crease his lips. "I don't know. I guess it's cause you seem as lost as I do."

Tony blinked at the teen, unsure as to how to respond to that. Thankfully, Peter continued, sparing him from speaking. "Well, I mean, I'm not one to really talk much to new people and...and it doesn't seem like you have much experience talking to kids a whole lot."

"Geez, thanks kid."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, shaking his head. "It's just...comforting knowing you and I are kinda the same in this. Like...like we both need just a little bit of help here and there."

Tony stared at the teen before letting a smirk fall onto his face, hoping the look would hide the silent desperation he was beginning to feel towards the teen. "Well, we could always help each other fumble through this, huh?"

Peter turned away at that. "Well, that's just the thing. It's a little... _too_ comforting." He sighed. "It's so easy to talk to you that it's also easy to share something bad. Say something wrong. The possibility of such a thing seems to skyrocket every time I'm in the same _room_ as you!"

The billionaire blew out a breath and shook his own head. "Peter, there is no... _wrong,_ alright? I've said this before, kid. You're not gonna get in trouble with me for saying what's on your mind."

"It's not _you_ I'm worried about."

At that, Tony couldn't help but clench his fists, eyes narrowing. Peter shook his head and rested his forehead into his palm once more. "Who am I kidding? You wouldn't understand this?"

The billionaire froze at that, the words sinking in as he stared at the teen across the way. The boy continued to scrunch in on himself, almost as if he believed that if he made himself as small as possible, he'd simply just disappear. Of course, the cloud of negative emotions radiating from the boy was nearly big enough to fill the entire tower.

With a final thought and a shake of his head, Tony made up his mind. He was done with this. Done with dealing with the same cloud he'd been trying to fight through for the past couple of months. Tired of having this kid tip-toe around him.

He was fixing his once and for all.

"Let me guess. Nothing you do is good enough for them."

Peter jerked his head up at that, Tony continuing. "Everything is met with some sort of criticism, some exposed flaw, some detail that you missed. Whenever you do something good, it's immediately followed with questions about what you did wrong, about what you _will_ do wrong now or in the future. And it doesn't seem like anything you could possibly do will ever live up to their expectations."

Peter stared at him, eyes wide and mouth parting as his brows furrowed slightly in mild confusion. "How...h-how do you-?"

"How do I know that?" Tony finished for him. He let out a small humorless chuckle. "Cause that's exactly what my dad would do."

The teen never let his eyes leave the man as he continued. "But you know, when I was your age I has just met Rhodey." He explained." For the longest time, I had assumed that most families were like mine. Cold, distant and unforgiving." A small smile crossed his lips. "But...when I met Rhodey, when I met his family for the first time, I realized just what I was missing."

Tony turned to look at the teen, eyes filling with an unreadable look. "Peter...you come from a family that doesn't always appreciate you, don't you?"

Peter swallowed and cast his eyes to the floor, hands wringing around themselves. That gave Tony the answer he needed. The billionaire sighed as he leaned closer. "Well, I'm here to tell you that it _does_ get better, you know. But not if you go at it alone." He stressed. "You gotta reach out to other people, kid. They aren't all gonna bite back."

The teen couldn't help but give a light scoff at that. "I've met plenty that do."

Tony gave a reluctant nod of his head. "Yeah, some of them might...but not all of them. And I can assure you, I haven't lost my bite, but I'm very particular about who gets the honor of being mauled by Tony Stark."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at that, the small bout of merriment morphing into a look of resigned sadness as the boy stared down at his hands. "Mr Stark...I...I _really really_ wanna believe you." He murmured.

"Then do it. What's stopping you?"

The teen let out a breath, eyes shifting as he tried to find the words. "I w-wanna believe you...but I...I can't trust you."

At the look of shock and slight unease passing over the billionaire's face, the teen backtracked quickly. "No, j-just...listen." He sighed, unsure as to how to explain. "It's not you. It's me. I just...and it's hard because I want to...and with all the the...I-I just..." The words continued to trip over themselves so he just stopped talking, running a hand through his hair.

He was so tired. Tired of this...of...of tripping over himself like an idiot, unsure of what to say and how to act and just what specific things he needed to lie about, what things to hide away. He was tired of that fear. That fear of saying something he wasn't supposed to, of having someone find out more than they could know.

He was so tired of acting.

He glanced back over towards Mr. Stark, the man staring at him, concern and confusion etched into his dark brown eyes. He could see the hints of caring in those eyes, the hints of a man who really did just want to...help him.

But he couldn't afford to accept it. Not when there was so much he had to mask.

"Maybe this was a mistake." He murmured softly.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath. "Peter-"

"No, I'm sorry, Mr. Stark for making you go through all this trouble tonight." The teen suddenly began to ramble, shooting up from his seat as the billionaire quickly did the same. 'I'm so sorry for taking up your time but I really should be getting home anyways." He grinned nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck as his heart began to beat just a little faster, especially when Mr. Stark took a step closer. "Thanks again for all of this, but i really should-" He quickly jumped out of reach of the man and made to walk away back towards the elevator, only for the man's voice to stop him.

"Peter!"

The teen froze at the man's voice, though his didn't turn around to face him. Instead he simply lowered his head, fists clenching as they shook at his sides, body stiff with tension that seemed to drip from his muscles and coat the floor beneath his feet. He clenched his eyes shut, chest stuttering slightly as he tried to suck in a calming breath.

He didn't hear any footfalls on the floor, which meant Mr. Stark hadn't walked after him, which meant he still had a good chance of making it to the elevator without the man being able tot catch up to him. And yet, despite his obvious window of opportunity, the boy found himself ignoring it. Instead, it felt as though his feet were rooted to the ground, ceasing any and all movement. Before he could think better of it, his mouth was opening.

"You're not stupid, Mr Stark." His voice was hard. "You know there are things going on that I can't tell you about. I just _can't."_

He imminently regretted the words as soon as they were out, realizing he'd just etched another crack in his mask. Whatever suspicions the man had been holding he'd all but just confirmed them right then and there. He mentally screamed at himself for his stupidity, but still found himself frozen to the spot.

All he could do was stay silent and listen for the man's response, hoping and praying that maybe he'd misheard him.

. . . . .

"Then don't"

Peter jolted at that, eyes springing open as he whirled around to stare at the man, lips parted slightly.

Tony stared at him with a look of resigned acceptance. "You don't have to tell me anything. You don't have to tell me about it. You don't have to confess to me. Hell, you don't even have to _trust_ me, kid." He sighed, dark brown eyes seeming to bore into the teen, who was still having difficulties comprehending the man's words. "But all I'm asking is that you give me a chance here. Give me a chance to earn that trust. Give me a chance to prove that it's worth it, that it _does_ get better, that... _everything_ I said is true."

Peter blinked up at him, face holding a look of pure shock as he slowly but surely found his voice. "I...I-I don't have to tell you about it? Y-You're not gonna push at it?"

Tony sighed. "Not if you don't want me to." He murmured. "You don't have to think about it, you don't even have to mention his name whenever you're in this tower. You don't have to...do whatever it is you do with everybody else. You don't have to recite lies you've been trained to tell. You don't have to worry about slipping up and saying something I'm not supposed to hear cause I won't fault you for it. I won't pry. I won't snoop. Nothing you don't want."

He rubbed at the back of his neck as he felt fatigue wrapping around him. "I get it, kid. Trust me, I do. You don't know who to trust so you don't trust anybody. You...put up walls, barriers, _masks._ The act is what people see. Richard Parker's son. that's who greets them, avoids eye contact, hides the truth."

He stepped closer, Peter too stupefied to truly react as the man placed his hands around the teen's shoulders. "But you don't have to do that with me, kid. Cause I prom-" He stopped himself from using the word. "I _guarantee_ I'm not looking for Richard Parker's son, alright. I didn't ask to have Richard Parker's son as an intern, okay? I asked for _Peter_ _Parker._ So while Richard Parker's kid may put up an act, a front for people to see, Peter Parker doesn't have to do that. _You_ don't have to do that. Not here. Not with me."

Peter stared at him, blinking rapidly as he slowly began to digest the information being thrown at him. He lowered his gaze as his mind swirled around Tony's words. Slowly, he began to piece together what the man was saying, realizing exactly what the man had just figured out.

There were two of him.

There was Peter Parker - Richard Parker's son. He followed the rules. He obeyed without complaint. He kept his eyes down and his mouth shut and he knew just what he could and couldn't say. The things he could and couldn't reveal. He tripped over his words, he flinched around everyone. He had secrets. Secrets that _nobody_ could know. He was a mask.

Then there was Peter Parker, the boy _underneath_ the mask. He came out for Ned and MJ occasionally. He was pulled out by May before quickly being hidden away by the mask again. He wasn't afraid to complain about the rules. He went against them when the time came. He _fought_ back against them when he had to, in a mask of a completely different degree, a mask that ironically uncovered his true self, a mask that let him help people in ways Richard Parker's son never could.

Peter Parker was who he really was. Peter Parker was the person he hid away from his father, the Cons...everyone.

And yet, as he stared up at Mr. Stark's calming chocolate eyes, the teen felt a strange tug in his chest, a longing feeling that had only ever been present in the man's presence, a feeling he hadn't understood before, but truly did now.

A feeling of longing...of freedom.

Maybe...just maybe...Peter Parker could reveal himself to just... _one_ more person.

Tony stared down at him, feelings of anxiety bubbling in his chest at the boy's prolonged silence. "Kid? Heh...umm...could you maybe say something? Just, like...give me a ballpark range here. How high are the chances of you jumping out that window to escape right now?"

Peter lifted his head, staying silent for a moment before letting a small smile grace his lips, the smile growing wider until it turned into a soft chuckle, which grew into a full-blown laugh.

Tony blinked down at him as he cocked a brow, still unsure as to whether or not this situation was really ' _under control'_. "Alright, I'm still confused. Are we happy or just delving into the first stages of a mental breakdown?"

The teen glanced up at him with a smile. "Probably a little of both."

"Cool. We're on the same page then."

The boy scoffed at that, before swallowing the slight lump in his throat, Tony noticing this as he leaned closer once more. "I meant what I said, Pete. No more masks. No more hiding. Just you."

"Just me." The teen echoed back in a whisper, said more to himself than to Tony. "I think...I think I can do that." He said with a soft smile.

Tony let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as he clasped the teen on the shoulder, Peter giving only small flinch at the touch. "Alright, good. That's...t-that's good. These are...these are good things." Tony rambled, as if trying to find his train of thought, which had quickly left the station.

Outside, another flash of lighting lit the sky, but it was much duller this time. Father away. A soft sound of rumbling thunder echoed through the building as FRIDAY disabled the soundproofed windows now that the storm was getting farther away. But this time, the noise didn't make Peter tense. It didn't make his heart light with panic.

This time he heard no gunshots.

A sense of silence settled over the two once more, but this time it wasn't like before. It wasn't suffocating and cold. This time it was...calm. A sense of peace flowing through the two. A feeling of...comfortableness washing over them.

And for the first time ever, Peter wasn't afraid of it.

It was a feeling he could get used to.

"You know, you never told me about yours."

Tony cocked a brow and turned towards the teen. "Never told you about what?"

"What you'd eat for breakfast with the others."

The man stared down at him for a moment before letting out a humored scoff, Peter giggling next to him. The man shrugged his shoulders and lifted a hand to gesture. "Literally, i could have eaten bricks and razor blades and it wouldn't have mattered as long as I had my coffee." He muttered, Peter snorting at that.

"You mean with the coffee machine that cuts you off?"

"We don't talk about that."

Peter laughed while Tony continued to ramble on and curse out the machine that brought him both so much pleasure and pain in the form of dark black liquid while outside, the dark storm clouds were beginning to dissipate, revealing the clear black sky above, the moonlight seeping through as it illuminated the air and seemed to expel the darkness as light reached out to brighten everything it could touch.

* * *

 **HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO COLORS OF VENOM!**

 **Can you believe it? One year ago today I first published this story and now we're here...only thirteen chapters in...hmmm... Whatever, you get more than one chapter per month. I'd say that's a pretty good deal.**

 **Anyway, I'll make this short cause my computer just crashed and I wanna get this out before it does again. So...SATs, AP classes, all around shitty school. That's about it. I know it's been a while but those are my reasons. And trust me when I tell you this story couldn't have come out any faster. I PROMISE you.**

 **OO! I saw Captain Marvel yesterday! And I was pleasantly surprised. It was actually really good. There were little things that kinda annoyed me, mainly the hard heavy-handed feminist message in it. And like, they don't even need to tweak it all that much to fix it. The main issue (And I won't spoil anything obviously) is that whenever she's "knocked down", it's always by men. Now, I myself am a girl, so don't start screaming that I'm supporting the patriarchy or whatever. But the only thing they needed to do to improve it was to make some of the bullies girls cause that's how it is in real life. Then when she "gets back up again" it's just to the people who tried to hold her down and not just to the** _men_ **who held her down because I feel like that deboggs the message a little bit. But other than that, I thought it was super awesome! You should really go and see it!**

 **Also that end credits scene...damn...**

 **Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! Guess who's seventeen now?! Yeah, my birthday was in February but I wasn't ready to post then so...whatevs.**

 **Anyway** **, this was longer but that was before my computer crashed and deleted all my work for this so that was just peachy. Anyhoo it's 11:56pm and I really wanna get this out before tomorrow cause it's the ANNIVERSARY! That means it's special!**

 **But before I leave, i'll talk bout the story. So from here on out the ANGST TRAIN is taking a break for the time being. It's not gone but it IS going away for a while.**

 **I'm not saying that chapters won't have some moments of angst, but they won't overrun the chapter and be the focus like some of these previous chapters. We're also gonna go more in-depth with Tony and Peter's relationship as we continue these next few chapters.**

 ***********NOTE: next chapter will probably be an interlude (I.E. a mini chapter that doesn't revolve around out main characters but instead explains scenes that happen WHILE the scenes with our main characters do take place [Tony, Peter, Rogues]) just a heads up in case you see a shorter chapter for the next one**

 **Thanks to everyone for favoriting and/or following:  
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 **Reviews:**

 **Qwertyweirdo : dude you have no frikkin idea how tired I am of school. And you're so right, Scott really is unapprecisted. but this story will remedy that**

 **Luckias : NOPE! Still not dead! And I am definitely not planning on giving this up anytime soon. It's my most popular story yet so I'm not letting you readers down**

 **Emily F. 6: Aww thanks, you lovely.**

 **PeteynotParker : Welp here you go. Hope this satisfies your cravings!**

 **Looneylovegood1981 : We gotta love the Dad Squad huh?**

 **Seawell : huh, I've always wanted to be magical. Guess my wishes are coming true. Yours too cause here's a new chapter!**

 **Agent Blue Rose : Dude dont even talk to me about shitty wifi. My wifi is literally the worst. Like I'll have to reboot it every ten minutes or something which sucks when I'm in the middle of a hot writing session and all of a sudden my computer crashes so we love that for me.**

 **Starstepper : Honestly so am I. Usually, I would have gotten bored of this story and moved on by now but there's just something holding me to it. Hope I can keep you engaged for the rest of the story.**

 **DaWriter06 : Dude, I fucking love you! And I mean, it isn't hard to be better at Shakespear. I'm pretty sure that dude was on drugs when he wrote his shit cause I can't get through a single chapter without falling into a snoozefest. But hey, not every writer can say they singlehandedly came up with new words for the English language **

**Applespongecake ; It takes a bit more to scare me, sugar. Try throwing a math mid-term my way and I'll go running for the hills.**

 **Ammy of Asgard : Transition Queen!**

 **Andipandi5 : uh, that isn't just a feeling, sugar. These chapters ARE long. And yes. It IS amazing.**

 **Purpleflame2 : definitely not. But that would be cool to be a 17 year old scientist.**

 **Oloviajk42 : yeah I get that. Same thing happens to me. But the rogues are also important almost secondary main characters so we'll need to see their progression as well. But don't worry. You'll still get PLENTY of Peter Tony bonding fluff.**

 **Broken Silhouettes : Yes! Take the fluff! Drown in the fluff! DROWN!**

 **Pokemath101: welp, hope this makes your day a little brighter!**

 **Athena Sakura Panthenos : Behold! The rare update in it's natural habitat!**

 **Goddess-of-the-moon-39 : Right now!**

Fan02 **: Ooo Comentario largo! ¡Mi favorito! De todos modos, significa tanto para mí que dedicarías tiempo y esfuerzo a traducir una historia completa solo para leerla cuando no esté en tu idioma nativo. Por eso he traducido este comentario. Quiero decir, si vas a poner todo ese tiempo y esfuerzo, entonces podría hacer esta pequeña cosa para que te sea más fácil. Al menos, ESPERO que esto sea correcto. En realidad soy salvadoreño pero mi español está cerca de atroces. Me gusta, decepciono a mi familia en más de un XD Pero, una vez más, gracias por poner todo este esfuerzo. Te amo mi amor con todo mi corazon !**


	14. INTERLUDE

**Just a heads up, this "chapter" is incredibly short because it's just an Interlude, like I explained in the previous update. If you don't know what an interlude is, it's almost like a gap between scenes, like the break between scenes in a play. Well, I wanted to include this to describe what's happening in the background while we focused on our main characters: Peter, Tony and the Rogues. This gives us a little insight to what's going on in the shadows.**

 **Enjoy and tell me what you guys think of interludes. If this goes well I'll consider including more. Not a lot, just a few where necessary.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Interlude**

* * *

 **Saturday - April 2, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Sub-Level Labs**

 **06:32 p.m.**

Richard watched with a scowl as Peter turned and quickly dashed out of the subway car, disappearing from his sight with crumpled bills clenched in his tight fists. The man rolled his eyes with a slight huff as he slouched back down in his chair, glaring at the papers before him.

"He's _such_ a little spaz." Sandra muttered from the side as she made her way over towards the bar and pulled out a few glasses, reaching down to take out a bottle of scotch as well.

Curt let out a snort. "I think the word you're looking for is ' _idiot'_."

"He can be both." She called, pouring the amber liquid into the glasses.

"Knock it off, you two." Max called with a stern look, Richard grateful he didn't have to say it himself. Then again, there _was_ a reason Max was his right-hand man and not any of the others. He always seemed to know what Richard wanted before even _he_ did.

"He usually doesn't do that anymore."

The others - sans Flint who was still passed out drunk on the couch - turned to look at him. "What do you mean?" Max called.

Richard narrowed his eyes. "He's gotten better at keeping his mouth shut. He usually doesn't ask questions anymore." He muttered just loud enough for the others to hear. "I thought he'd gotten smarter than to blatantly ask me something as stupid as where we're going." He growled.

Max rolled his eyes. "Ch'yeah. But you seeing the kind of people he's been in the presence of recently?"

Richard lifted his head at that.

"Stark may be rubbing off on him in all the wrong ways." Sandra noted, reaching the same conclusion as her colleague.

Curt narrowed his eyes. "Plus, we have no _idea_ the kinda things they talk about in there. Maybe...we should be cautious about this."

Richard hummed in thought, only for Max to huff off to the side. "We should never have agreed to let him intern for him, Richard." He muttered. "I knew this was a bad idea from the start, letting him go off, learning who-knows-what from that asshole. I mean, come on! The longer he's there, the more he'll start to think and-"

Richard held up a hand, the dark-skinned man instantly falling silent at the gesture. When the subway car was quiet once more, he spoke. "I know what I'm doing, Maxwell." He said in a cool voice, the warning tone to back off evidenced more in the use of the man's full name. "I have Peter in there for a reason. And when the time calls for it, we'll exploit it for what we need." He stood up and pushed away from the desk, grabbing the extra glass that Sandra had pulled out.

Quickly filling the glass for her boss, the man swiveled the glass in his hand, the drink sloshing about gently "Now, I'll admit. I don't like the idea of him going around with as much free reign as he's recently been doing." He murmured. "A boy like Peter needs to understand that he has a place and that it's set in stone. I take up the mantel of reminding him of that, of showing him the good that can come by following the rules and staying in line." He explained while grabbing the other glasses, the others nodding as if it were as simple to understand as two plus two.

"However, I have taken my hands off the wheel for a change to let him...explore. Let him get a feel for the waters." He murmured, passing Curt a glass.

"And _Stark_ was the right choice to start out with?" The man called with a cocked brow.

"Stark is the _perfect_ choice for this." Richard countered. "That bumbling oaf doesn't care for anything other than himself. But Peter's so starved for attention that he'll glom onto whoever's nearby." He scoffed with a roll of his eyes, the others snickering at that. "Of course, once Stark shows the true asshole that he is, Peter will understand just who he can rely on around here. He'll learn that you really _can't_ trust anyone. All he can do...is what he's told." He grinned with a devilish glint in his eyes. "He'll learn just _who_ he belongs to.

Max stared down at the ground, arms folded over his chest. "I don't know, man. Peter's so...weak." He sneered with a disgusted look. "You're honestly telling me there's _any_ hope of salvaging him? Of, of... _making him_...one of us? Besides, we still have the issue of being in the dark about what he's doing over there at Stark's."

Richard stared hard at the man for a moment. "A plan is underway, Max." He swished the drink and passed Max a glass. "A plan is underway. As for what he's been doing, we have a solution to that too."

He glanced down at the glass. "Raven will be home in a couple of days and-" It was hard to miss the groans of annoyance that drifted from the others at the name. He ignored them and continued on. "- _and_ Peter will tell her a _lot_ more than he'll tell us. Whatever secrets he has to tell about Stark, Raven will be the first to know. And that's our ticket in."

Curt grunted from his place. "That girl is so...just...ugg." He muttered, unsure on how to describe the girl, just knowing he disliked her in about the same fashion as the others. "She's a little bitch, is what she is." Sandra snapped, tapping her long fingernails against the sides of the glass. "Even so I can't understand why that little shitface would talk to her."

"He has to talk to somebody." Max muttered. "So it's either her or some imaginary friend."

Richard narrowed his eyes at that, but continued on as if they hadn't spoken. "We must be patient. Peter is...strange. But he's held out for this long." He stared down into the amber liquids before him, catching the dark color of his irises in the reflection. "That boy has secrets. And I don't like that. But we must be patient. Keep all our cards hidden. And when the time is right..." He lifted a glass.

"We crush him. Snap and shatter and destroy him...and take those pieces and mold our perfect little soldier out of the dust."

The others smirked and raised their glasses before joining the man in a drink.

* * *

 **Saturday - April 2, 2016**

 **Somewhere in East Harlem**

 **12:21 a.m.**

The distant shriek of police sirens mingled with the dull muffled murmur of TVs from the nearby apartment complexes that were still a comfortable distance away that anybody peeking from their windows would have a hard time making them out. The underpass they were currently situated near shrouded them in shadow and the entrance to the alleyway let in no aiding light considering the large van they'd parked was situated in such a way that it blocked the alleyway from the view of the sidewalk, meaning anybody passing by would see nothing but a van parked in a random alleyway and nothing else.

Which was exactly what they wanted. The less people who saw them the better.

Mark anxiously shifted from one foot to the other as he clenched and unchecked his sweaty palms against his sides. Nicky stoop up against the back wall smoking a cigarette. Though it was obvious from the slight shake in his hand as he grabbed it that he was nervous as well. The two armed men who stood next to them did little to aid in their reassurances.

He glared over at Mark, throwing the cigarette down on the ground. "Would you stop moving around so much?" He snapped before crushing the bud underneath his shoe. "You're making me nervous."

"You _should_ be nervous." Mark growled back, lifting his gaze to meet his bosses. "From what you told me about these guys, they mean serious business. So how the _fuck_ are we supposed to tell them we don't have their shipment of supplies, which _by the way_ they already fucking paid for?!"

Nicky glowered at that, attempting to hide the slight grimace that involuntarily sparked at the man's words. "Look, it ain't like it's our fault alright? Those damn Avengers messed with our main point of production so...you know...of course we're a little behind. I'm sure they'll understand that."

Mark shook his head. "I don't know, man. The kind of people we got around us...they aren't known to be so understanding."

"And just _what_ _is_ it that we'll _supposedly_ be needing to understand?"

Both men jumped at the new voice that echoed down the alleyway. All four people already situated turned their heads at the voice, Mark grimacing while Nicky attempted to hold his ground as they approached.

There were five of them this time instead of the usual three from before which made the man a little nervous. Now they were outnumbered, a fact he wasn't all too pleased about.

From the builds he could make out, they were all men except for a women that was now sauntering next to them. She was a slim figure with short black hair cut into a bob with just enough length to kiss the sides of her neck as she walked past. The mask covering her face shielded her features from their view but it did little to hide the dull purple glow emanating from where her eyes should have been.

In fact, all five figures had the same piercing glow emanating from their masks, all with different hues and undertones.

All four gang men quickly righted themselves, the guards off to the side straightening up as they tried their best to look as intimidating as possible. Though considering the newcomers also had two men that were much taller and buffer than the guards themselves, the futility of it was quickly recognized. Nicky cleared his throat before leveling the man in front a cool stare.

"Mr. Kingsman, sir."

The man, apparently dubbed _Kingsman_ said nothing. In fact, his eyes weren't glowing at all, revealing the dark black color of his irises against the stark white of his eyes. However, such a fact didn't stop him from nodding. "Nick." He said, his voice a steely steady thrum as he echoed back the only name the man had given him.

He gestured over towards his associates. "You already met Lizard and Sandman." He announced, gesturing towards two of the masked figures, one with glowing yellow eyes and the other dull green. "I'd like you to meet Banshee and my right hand man, Electro."

The woman - _Banshee_ \- cocked her head to the side, a gesture made even creepier at the fact that they couldn't see her face, only the expressionless black of the mask, illuminated slightly by the pale purple glow of her irises, matched by the whitish-blue of Electro's, his dark-skinned hands curling slightly as he folded his arms over his chest, remaining silent.

"Now-" Mr. Kingsman turned back to face them. "Just what is it that we'll be needing to understand?"

Nicky's face twitched but he remained silent as Mark took the lead. He cleared his throat once more, confused at the slight lump in it before speaking. "We've...had a bit of a complication."

He could see Kingsman's eyes narrow behind the mask.

"Our main point of production was...attacked on Thursday and we've recently discovered that nothing was salvageable from the sight cause there were already cops swarming the place when we got wind of it."

"Do we know who the attackers were?" Electro murmured from the side, his voice thick and deep.

Mark hesitated at that before glancing over at Nicky. His employee licked his lips before stepping forward. "We have reason to believe it was the Avengers."

The mood instantly darkened in the cramped alleyway, the guards shifting at the sudden change. Kingsman stared at them, dark eyes boring into their faces so intensely, Mark almost wished his eyes were glowing if only to block the stares of his black eyes. "What?" He seethed, voice shooting out like a poisonous dart with enough force to have them take a small step back.

"But-" Mark quickly jumped in, hoping to alleviate some of the tense mood. "-but...we're already ramping up production in our other major areas so while we may not have your ordered supply _tonight_ like we originally planned, we-"

"That doesn't change the fact that the Avengers somehow found out about you." Mr. Kingsman cut in, voice terse and cold, his accomplices moving in another inch. "Do you even understand the repercussions this could reap? The consequences? Not just for you, but for anyone and everyone who's had a dealing with you?"

Nicky couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance and indignation at the tone the man was using with him, as if he were speaking to a child. "Yeah, we get that. It's just-"

"Just that you were too incompetent to go about this intelligently? Yes, I think I have to agree with you there." The man muttered.

Nick narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists as his teeth ground together.

"Look, man." The thug growled out, patience having worn thin. "Why don't you just calm the heck down and get off your high fucking horse. I don't see you risking _your_ neck out here every night by supplying these weapons. I don't see _you_ having to fend off the cops, detectives and Avengers to top everything off! We're putting out necks on the line to help psychopaths like you! So why don't you just keep your goddamn mouth shut and we'll get you your weapons when we get to it!"

Mark's face twisted into a look of unsure anxiety at what his boss was snarling. But the man didn't seem to be ready to stop anytime soon.

"Besides, none of my other customers are snapping at my neck for their orders. What makes it your business to interfere with our processes, anyway?"

Kingsman's voice remained as neutral and cold as it had been before, despite the words now being flung towards him. "You make it my business when your actions threaten our very livelihoods."

"Yeah well...there's a lot more than just the Avengers that could threaten your livelihoods, you know." Nicky muttered more under his breath than out loud. Nevertheless, the closed-in walls of the alleyway caught every syllable.

Behind him, Kingsman could feel his companions tense behind him, their postures stiffening. His eyes bore into the thug's, black and menacing. "I'd be careful of what you say." He murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Mark obviously picked up on the underlying threats laced in the man's words, but Nicky didn't seem quite so keen as he rolled his eyes. "Why's that? From where I'm standing, I have enough information on you and your little posse to have you locked up for good." He sneered. "Cops are always looking for an inside-eye, and since they're so desperate to get these weapons off the street, they'll be more than happy to allow me the position." He smirked, deeming the silence of the group as signs of victory.

"Really?" Was all Kingsman replied.

"Yep. So I'd watch your step there, man." He grinned, stalking forward just a slight, sensing his power increasing over the situation. "Cause I got plenty of other customers I can rely on here. Besides, it's so easy to scrounge up a little dirt on someone when you look hard enough." He winked at the man before him. "Best not do anything to get my eyes wandering if you know what I mean."

Kingsman tilted his head to the side, posture remaining calm and passive. "Is that so?" He asked, voice reflecting the relaxed nature of his body. "You know, I believe you should treat your customers with a little more respect." His voice slowly began to take on a deeper tone.

Mark took a small step back as he seemed to become aware of this. Nicky, however, remained completely oblivious.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?" He scoffed with a wave of his hand. "I got the weapons here, and without me you got nothing but empty pockets and-"

His thoughts were stopped short as Kingsman lifted his hand and gave a small snap of his fingers. Before anybody could so much as turn their heads towards the small noise, Lizard was charging forward almost on some silent command. Nicky didn't even have time to scream as claws were digging into his neck, ripping away the skin and muscle to reveal the bones and throbbing arteries now spraying blood all over the walls and floors of the deserted alleyway.

The two armed guards off to the side jolted to alert at the attack, but were still much too late. Banshee's hands lifted and lavender tendrils of light shot towards one of the men, wrapping around his limbs before ripping them from his torso like pulling toothpicks out of a styrofoam cup. Meanwhile, the other guard couldn't so much as run as Electro charged up his hands and wrapped them around the man's face, his skin screeching and bubbling as the heat literally seemed to melt the flesh from the bone.

Mark screamed and backed away towards the side walls of the alleyway as Nicky fell to his knees, a chocked gurgling sound emanating from him as he tried and failed to speak.

Kingsman stepped closer, eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the alleyway. He said nothing as the man gave one last blood-filled gasp before collapsing to the ground, a pool of crimson liquid spreading across the alleyway from not just one, but three freshly-killed bodies.

Mark stared in horror at the sight of his boss' mangled body, only to yelp as Kingsman turned towards him. "Congratulations, Mark." He murmured with a small kick at the limp body lying next to him. "Looks like you just got a promotion." The man stalked forward and gripped the man's collar with his fist, dragging him closer. "And I suggest you take this job _very_ seriously." He whispered as his eyes seemed to flash in the orange lights.

Mark couldn't even stutter out a response, not even when Kingsman tossed him to the ground, the man sliding in the freshly-pooled blood. He gasped, his body shaking as he quickly rose to his feet, completely ignoring the blood now staining his clothes as he turned on his heel and bolted down the alleyway, disappearing from sight after another second.

Kingsman watched him go, body tense and rigid as the others milled about behind him, inspecting the bodies they'd left.

"Well that was fun." Banshee called as she licked a drop of blood off of her finger, hair swishing around her neck as she moved from body to body, inspecting their handiwork with a gleam in her eyes.

"What'd you want us to do with these?" Sandman called with a wave towards the victims.

The man didn't turn around, instead keeping his gaze locked on the end of the alleyway. For a moment, the others wondered if he would respond at all, only to jerk as he finally spoke. "Leave them." He muttered. "Keep the cops around here as busy as they can be. Besides, nobody'll really care about a couple of common street thus getting involved in things they shouldn't have."

Electro reached towards his mask and yanked it off, face revealing his frustrations. "And what about the Avengers? You can't put it off any longer. We have to deal with them _now_."

The other shook his head. "No. Not yet at least. For now we stick with the plan. Keep everything running smoothly." He turned to face the others.

Banshee was off to the side, dancing around each of the bodies without a care in the world. Lizard was now tearing into one of the discarded limbs that his female counterpart had left for him, flesh catching in his teeth as he ate. Sandman generated enough pillars of sand to reach the nearby lampposts, destroying the lights inside to mask the alleyway in darkness as Electro raised a hand of his own, lighting their path in bluish-white light.

Kingsman tapped his fingers against the side of his legs, his palms igniting slightly in orange light as his eyes did the same.

"We'll get to them soon enough."

* * *

 **So uhhh...just saw Endgame yesterday...**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **. . . . .**

 **...i don't wanna talk about it.**


	15. Good Day Sunshine

**Chapter 15: Good Day Sunshine**

 _Peter couldn't help but smile from his seat on the carpet as his Mommy let out a laugh, eyes crinkling in the corners as she stared over at their neighbors, May and Ben._

 _The former was sitting on the couch with a smile on her face while the latter was crouched down next to the TV, sorting through all the old albums his Mommy had stored up over the years. Peter knew their neighbors. Peter liked them. They were nice; funny; they gave him toys and candy whenever they came. But most of all, they made his Mommy really, really happy._

 _"I mean, how many of these things can one person have?" Ben chided as he glanced through all the assorted music._

 _May rolled her eyes from the couch. "Don't listen to him, Mary. This loaf has over two hundred CDs just strewn about all over the place. And they aren't even in their correct packages. I have no idea how he finds anything in there."_

 _"Hey! I have my system. I don't question how you find all those spices of yours in that spice rack, now do I?"_

 _Mary let out another laugh as she shook her head, playfully pushing Ben to the side as she glanced over his shoulder to browse through the CDs. Her eyes seemed to stop on one in particular as she beamed and reached down._

 _The four-year-old currently stacking his Legos together watched as Mommy straightened back up, now holding a new CD in her hands, turning it this way and that as she let a smile fall onto her face. "This is my favorite album in the whole series, you know?"_

 _Ben sat down on his haunches and glanced up at her with a funny expression on his face. "Seriously? 'Revolver' is your favorite album? Honey...we gotta have a serious talk about this." He joked, Mary tapping him with her foot as she rolled her eyes._

 _Ignoring the man's comments, she walked over towards the CD player next to the TV and popped in the disk. "Just you wait, you two. We'll make little Pete here a fan of the 80s soon enough."_

 _"The Beatles weren't from the 80s, you know."_

 _"Details, details."_

 _The married couple rolled their eyes with large grins on their faces as the fuzzy muffled noises from the loading machine cleared way to a bright tune. Mary stooped down and scooped Peter up in her arms, the boy shrieking in joy as his mother twirled him around as if he were her dance partner. The music bopped along merrily in his ears as he gripped his mother tightly, grin stretching from cheek to cheek as she laughed._

 _Out of the corner of their eyes, they could make out Ben hauling May to her feet, the latter giving a small shout of protest before succumbing to her husband's charm, sinking into his arms as they danced around as well, joining the mother and son as the group happily twirled around the room to the instantly recognizable harmonies of the Beatles._

 _"What is this, Mommy?"_

 _"The best music in the world, baby. And don't you forget it."_

* * *

 **Thursday - April 7, 2016**

 **Midtown School of Science and Technology - Building 1**

 **03:11 p.m.**

"You wanna be my _what?_ "

Ned practically bounced in his seat as he leaned closer to the confused boy. "You're _'Guy In The Chair'!"_ He beamed. "You know-"

Peter shook his head. "No, no. I...I heard you the first time. It's just... _what?"_

The larger of the two rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. You know what I'm talking about. Like in all those spy action movies where the heroes are out doing their thing, there's always some guy on the sidelines giving him all the directions and opening all the trap doors and turning all the street lights green?"

Peter stared at him, blinking slowly. "...yeah?"

"Well that could be _me!"_

Peter couldn't help but scoff and roll his eyes. "Ned, I-"

"Plus, then you'll have someone to talk to whenever you're out swinging around putting out fires and stopping floods." The boy whispered, Peter throwing him a weird look.

"Dude, I'm Spider-Man. Not...Jesus."

Ned threw him a light slap on the arm, Peter chuckling as he lightly punched his friend right back.

Over the past week, Ned had been _flooding_ him with questions and inquiries on his "extracurricular activities", begging and pleading to let him get involved with it in one way or another. Of course, Peter was _more_ than hesitant to allow the boy to do such a thing, knowing firsthand just how dangerous it was. After all, the closer he got the more threatening it was. And not just to him. To Peter as well. _(He can't know. Can't know. Can't know.)_

Still, that didn't do much to quell his friend's excitement.

And it didn't stop Peter from enjoying it as well. With all the seriousness surrounding Spider-Man and the dangers involved, it was easy to forget the sheer joy of being his spider-persona. Ned brought that joy and excitement back, the same feelings he'd felt when he'd first donned the mask and had swung around the city, free falling and whooping like a child at Disney World.

So, with that gratitude in mind, Peter couldn't help but smile back at his friend. "I'm sure we could set something up." He murmured with a chuckle, especially when Ned practically started squealing in his seat.

The other decathlon members threw them strange looks, but thought nothing of it as they went back to chatting amongst themselves, waiting for Michelle and Mr. Harrington to finish their brief discussion in the middle of their practice session.

The auditorium was all but empty save for the few tables and chairs that they usually set up for their practice meets. MJ and their sponsor teacher were near one of the back walls, having taken a break from their drills as the girl went to discuss something with the teacher while the rest of the members relaxed for a few short minutes.

Taking advantage of their brief rest along with the rest of their teammates, Ned had gone _right_ into the questions and talks about Spider-Man once again, which was what led them to their current discussion.

However, Peter's mind drifted as he glanced over towards where Michelle was talking with their teacher. The girl's messy, curl-filled hair was tied back into a ponytail as usual, a few strands falling down around her eyes as she folded her arms over her chest and continued to converse with the older man. Peter couldn't help but watch the girl as she silently and almost unnoticeably shifted her weight from foot to foot, something she usually did whenever she was annoyed or upset by something but didn't wanna say it out loud, which was rare considering the girl was always quick to voice her opinions.

Of course, before he could question why he was focusing on the girl so much, Ned was tapping him on the shoulder. The teen jerked slightly before turning to face the boy, who - if his facial expressions were any sign - had just said something.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you think you'll run into any other Avengers anytime soon." The teen repeated quietly, confused as to where the boy's mind could have gone but ignoring it nonetheless.

Peter thought about it for a moment before giving a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't really know. I mean Tony and Rhodey I see on a daily basis and that little run-in with the Falcon was kind of an accident. Plus, I don't know if the Black Widow is gonna be making those tower visits a weekly thing and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Ned whispered frantically before pointing a shaky finger towards his best friend, Peter rearing back slightly with wide eyes. "Don't tell me you met Black Widow. Peter Parker, do _not_ tell me you met _the_ Black Widow!" He basically whisper-screamed.

"...uh..."

"When did this happen?"

"About...I don't know, two weeks ago?"

" _Two-! Two weeks ago?!"_ He was practically vibrating at this point. "You've had this little secret stored up for two weeks and you're just telling me about this _now?!"_

Peter shrugged his shoulders once more, a nervous smile on his face. "Well, I don't know, man. Things have been kinda...hectic for me right now. Seriously. I just...it just slipped my mind is all." He murmured.

Ned shook his head. "I am sorely disappointed in you, Mr. Parker. You gotta tell me everything now. In excruciating detail, too, just to make up for it."

Before Peter could roll his eyes and snort out a reply, their attention was drawn elsewhere. "Yo, Losers. If you're about done over there."

They jerked slightly in their seats before realizing that all of the other members had quieted down and were now glancing over at them. Lifting their heads, they noticed Michelle was back, Mr Harrington now taking his usual seat at one of the back tables, content to stay out of the way to allow the students to handle themselves. The girl in question had her hands on her hips and was looking at them with a cocked brow.

Ned gave a small smile while Peter shrunk down in his seat slightly at all the looks. "Sorry!" His friend called.

Michelle rolled her eyes but quickly dropped it, turning back to address the rest of the Decathlon members. "Alright, so Mr. Harrington and I were just talking and we've gotten word of a rumor floating around the other Decathlon teams around the county that the topics for this next meet are gonna center around Africa."

A collective number of groans drifted up from the students, Michelle narrowing her eyes. "Don't give me that. I don't care if these questions are on Africa, micro-sciences or fucking Star Wars."

"Language." Mr. Harrington's voice called out from the back, Michelle and the others promptly ignoring it as she glared at her team members. "We are _not_ losing this next meet. Got it? You're all on this team for a reason. You all excel in your individual studies. We have members for math, history, literature, sciences, robotics, the works." She explained, folding her arms over her chest. "So whichever area of testing you're in, just be sure to study up on African areas of your fields, got it?" She snapped, the others quickly giving sharp nods, none too eager to mess around with the strict girl.

Quickly falling out of her disciplinarian mode, the girl slowly melted back into her usual sassy drill mode, pulling out another round of question cards for their next session.

"Alright, so with that in mind, we'll try our hand in a few." She murmured before flipping a few of her cards around and stepping up to their makeshift podium. "In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, what luxury item was exported on a large scale from Africa by the Portuguese?"

The light tingle of a bell being rung sounded from the table over as Abe, their resident history star, chimed in. "Ivory."

Michelle gave a nod of approval before moving onto the next. "The title for Things Fall Apart comes from a poem from which writer?"

"Yeats." Sally rings in, earning another nod from Michelle.

Over the next half an hour, their questions mainly stemmed around African culture, earning most of their responses from Abe, Sally and Charlie, who were more culturally knowledgeable than Peter, Ned or Cindy, who were more mathematics, physics and science. Of course, with each randomly thrown in math equation, science calculation or statistical function, their bells were ringing just as much as their other teammates.

However, for once, Peter's bell wasn't ringing as often as their usual meets. It wasn't that he didn't know the answers. It's just that his mind seemed to be...elsewhere. This upcoming Decathlon meet was the qualifier for the regional championships coming up in a few months. Midtown almost _always_ qualified so there was a significant reputation to uphold. The number of people attending this upcoming meet would be substantially larger than usual.

Such a fact didn't really _...bother_ Peter, per say. Sure, it made him a little more anxious than usual being confined to a room with so many eyes on him, lights shining in his face. But he had gotten used to such events in his time on the Decathlon team.

With each meeting, each face-off against a new school, new opponents, the teen began to feel a little more comfortable. He got used to the bright lights, the quick questions. He even got used to the feeling of not knowing a question, learning to rely on his other teammates when he was lost.

However, with each and every new meet that came up, there was always one thing that remained the same. One thing that stood as a constant.

Usually, the first few rows of the auditoriums where their meets were held were reserved for the family members of each of the students, one name after another scrawled onto white pieces of paper before being draped over chairs, reserved and marked for proud mothers and boastful dads. Of course, when it came to Midtown's reserves, there was always one empty chair.

Richard Parker never bothered in showing up for their meets.

Sure, on occasion Sally's mom would have to work late or Ned's dad would have some holdups at the office or a family emergency would hold up Michelle's parents, but one time or another, parents always filled in those seats. One meet or the next. They were there.

But not Peter's. His seat was always empty. Always reflecting that name right back up at him as he spouted off one right answer after another.

This had led to more than one instance of teasing from Flash, the others either throwing Peter looks of sympathy or Flash looks of annoyance, but they never outright said anything. Abe had asked a few times where his parents were and Sally had volunteered her mom to loan his parents rides if transportation was the problem, but each and every time Peter just declined with a smile and a polite thank you, simply saying his dad was usually just busy and would show up if he could.

He never said anything about his mom.

They never asked. He hoped it would stay that way.

But as the absences grew less and less noticeable, Peter began to wonder if his father would _ever_ show up for a meet, or if the man even _knew_ about Decathlon at all.

( _Of course he does. He just doesn't care enough to come.)_

Still, Peter felt a strange gnawing at the idea of his father missing what could potentially be the most important meet of the season, save for the championship. And sure, he'd missed them before and Peter couldn't exactly be too sure what he'd feel if the man actually _did_ come, it didn't stop the teen from wondering if the man would ever say yes to coming and seeing him. Witnessing his son in a setting where he actually thrived, somewhere he could actually make his father proud.

Maybe he should ask him. _(Don't do that.)_

Maybe he could mention the meet and how important it was. _(He doesn't care.)_

Maybe if he knew just how important it was to Peter...maybe...if he was in a good mood...then...

Maybe he could finally prove that he could make his father proud.

 _(Don't bet on it.)_

"Yo, Parker!"

Peter was jerked out of his thoughts for the second time that day by a loud voice calling out to him. Only this time, it wasn't laced with good-natured snark like Michelle's. In fact, everyone turned to look at Flash as he threw the boy a smug look, sitting up from where he'd been lounging against one of the tables, a magazine now resting on his lap.

"What's the matter? No answers today? That brain of your finally short-circuit?"

Michelle glanced over at the boy, a glare and a reprimand at the ready, only for another voice to interfere with her snap. "Yeah, you're pretty quiet today, Pete. Everything okay?" Cindy asked, long black hair swishing as she turned her head to look at him.

Peter blinked a few times just to snap himself fully back to the situation at hand, only to falter slightly as he realized that they were all staring at him now. Shifting slightly under the scrutinizing stares, the teen blew out a small breath as he gave a nervous grin and rubbed the back of his neck. "Y-yeah. Yeah...I'm fine. Just...a little out of it today, I guess."

"Well you better snap back into it soon, Parker. This meet is in a little over one week and you're my header for mathematics so get on it." Michelle chided from her seat by the podium, Peter blinking at the girl's usual snappiness with a frantic nod of his head.

The others looked ready to let it go at that, but Flash apparently had other plans. "Really, people? We can't see what's happening here?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll enlighten us." Michelle muttered as she rested an elbow on the podium surface and propped her cheek against her raised fist.

"This is just _more_ proof to what I've been telling you. Penis here couldn't tell you the different between an integer and a fraction and it's gonna cost us the match. This here is just more evidence."

He rose up from his seat and began to make his way over towards Michelle and the podium. "You all know I'm a better choice for his spot and if you don't wake up and realize it, then this match is as good as gone."

"Flash, come on-" Abe started, only for the other boy to cut him off.

"No, you know what? This moron hasn't answered one _single_ question today and I'll prove it to you." He called with a smug grin as he reached over and swiped the trivia cards out of Michelle's hands.

"Hey!" The girl snapped, Flash ignoring her as he rifled through them, obviously trying to find the most difficult one. All the while, the others turned to glance over at Peter, who was sitting as stiff as a board as he watched Flash rifle through the cards. To them, it perhaps looked to be out of nervousness, but inside, Peter was feeling nothing but a burning sense of annoyance and resentment. A new feeling of tiredness washed over him as he thought over all the times Flash had made a mockery of him, had tried to degrade him, bully him.

School was Peter's face haven, but Flash just reminded him that nowhere was really...safe. Everywhere he went, there would always be someone like Flash, like the Cons, like his father.

 _(You can't escape.)_

Well he was tired of it. If this was the game Flash wanted to play, then-

He stopped himself from finishing the thought, muscles falling limp as the boy swallowed the lump in his throat, the swirling thoughts quickly dissipating with a small sigh.

No. He couldn't do it. He couldn't push it. Cause everywhere else, all it ever did was make things worse. So who was to say that it wouldn't be the same here? If Flash truly was like his father and the Cons, then who was _he_ to act any differently? Oh sure, Flash couldn't exactly _hurt_ him (physically at least) without serious repercussions, there was still a substantial power off-balance in the school, and like it or not, Flash was a _lot_ more popular than Peter. And that meant power.

And just like every other person he knew with substantial power over him, Peter did what he knew best.

 _(Head down. Mouth shut.)_

He survived.

So if that meant Flash thinking what he wanted, then so be it. He knew the truth. His friends knew the truth. His teammates knew the truth. Wasn't that enough?

But then again...they didn't _really_ know the truth, now did they?

Did _he?_

 _("You're a waste of space.)_

Did he even want to _know_ the truth?

Before he could really even formulate an answer, he heard a victorious shout. Flash, apparently finding a question he liked, threw Peter a cocky smirk. "Alright, Parker. If you're so smart, then answer me this. A satellite is orbiting Earth at an altitude of 250 miles. Taking into consideration the measurement of the Earth's tangent horizon line, what is the distance from the satellite to the horizon when the radius is approximately 3,959 miles?" He finished by snidely whipping the card back down to glare at the boy in front of him.

His other teammates glanced at Peter unsuredly before reaching for the pieces of scrap paper in front of them, deciding to do the problem as well just in case. Peter stared down at Flash, the teen's words slowly sinking into his mind, weaving themselves together in a jumbled mess Peter couldn't really pull apart, not when he already had so much clutter he was trying to sort through.

 _(You aren't worth shit.)_

However, his troubles must have shown on his face as Flash sneered. "Seriously? You can't even set it up?" He called, noticing Peter wasn't even writing the problem down. "God, you are such an idiot, Penis. Why are you even on this team, man? You're like, completely useless."

 _("You will always be nothing.")_

With those last words, Peter felt something inside of him bend. It didn't break, just shuddered. A small scratch in the glass walls holding in the torrents of black sludge always occupying his mind. It was just a tiny scratch, almost unnoticeable.

But it was enough to have his fingers curling as he glared down at the smirking boy below him. The boy that - for the first time in a long time - didn't look as intimidating as usual. His muscles weren't large and threatening. His face - while annoying - wasn't terrifying. And his eyes...weren't glowing.

Hands clenching, Peter came to realize something. Yes, Flash _was_ like his father, _was_ like the Cons. But he wasn't... _them_. So while Peter couldn't see himself slugging the teen in the face anytime soon considering the thought of _fighting_ back making a bout of nausea slink through him, he _could_ prove something right here and now.

He was worthy of his father's praise. At least here. At least at Decathlon.

"Come on, Flash. That's way out of li-" Ned began to shout, only for Peter to effectively cut him off.

"1,429 miles." He murmured, voice quiet but sharp. Everyone fell silent at that, even Mr. Harrington, who had been about to intervene once he caught sight of Flash overrunning the practice...yet again.

"And if you want that in yards, it's 2,515,040." He continued, voice cold as he retorted back. "Or maybe in feet, which would make it 7,545,120." He folded his hands together on the desk. "Wanna go for inches?"

Silence filled the auditorium, wide eyes boring into Peter's skin as the teen continued to meet Flash's stare, the latter of whom now finding himself at a loss for words. It wasn't so much the answer that Peter had given, nor the fact that he had a surplus to give considering each and every one of the members on the team could have figured out that particular problem.

No, it was the fact that Peter hadn't even needed to write anything down, hadn't needed to set it up. He just... _knew._ With only a few moments of thought he _knew_.

"Well?" Michelle asked with a knowing smirk now plastered onto her face as she glanced over at Flash. "Is he right?" She called, though she already knew the answer to her question. They all did. Even Flash.

Said boy tore his eyes away from Peter, glanced over at the other team members for a split second before turning down towards the card. The unsuredness that had washed over his face at Peter's answers quickly morphed back into detached annoyance as he tossed the card over his shoulder. "Doesn't matter. This doesn't prove anything." He snapped, though his voice betrayed his unease.

"It proves one thing." Ned laughed from his seat.

"That there's a reason _he's_ on this team." Abe called from his seat.

"And why _you're_ first alternate." Cindy smirked as she folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

Peter could feel his face heating slightly at the praise his teammates were giving him, shrinking in his seat slightly and throwing them all small smiles as they beamed over at him. Flash, on the other hand, looked like a teapot ready to burst from the inside, fists curling at his sides as he glared at them. "Whatever. You'll see for yourselves next weekend. I'm right. I know I am." He sneered before stomping back to his seat.

"Ch'yeah. That ain't the only thing you are." Michelle muttered from the podium, the others snickering at that before the girl threw out another question and practice began once more, Peter now feeling no chains of hesitation as he buzzed in right alongside his teammates, Flash decidedly staying quiet for the remainder of their session.

* * *

 **Thursday - April 7, 2016**

 **Queens, NY -** **2765 Springshore Dr.**

 **03:20 p.m.**

The car screeched ever so slightly as Happy pulled up alongside the street, Tony craning his neck to glance out the back window. He stared up at the building before him and couldn't help but scrunch his face slightly in confusion.

"You sure this is the place, Tony?" Happy called from the front.

"...uh, sure."

Springshore was known for housing some of the richer, more well-off residents of Queens, numerous CEOs, entrepreneurs and other high-end rollers settling in the neighborhood which was known for its fancy townhouses and extravagant architecture.

One such example of this would be Richard Parker himself, whose house was situated just across the street from where Tony was parked. The billionaire resisted glancing behind him at the tall building, the structure - though dark and empty at the moment - still giving him a strange vibe that made his stomach curl slightly.

So it was for this reason that Tony stared at the houses on the _other_ side of the street in mild confusion, the side of the street he was currently parked on. Contrasting the lavish, top-tier houses on the other side of the road, _these_ houses were anything but. In fact, they resembled more of the commonly-found apartments and run-down tenements that littered the streets of Queens. And the house he currently found himself parked outside of was no different.

The white paint was stained and peeling, matching the weary, chipped tiles and straining slats of the roof alongside the creaking window panes. The brick steps were dark and dirty, and the wooden banister outside the door had definitely seen better days. Still, there were a few flowers planted along the grass and newly sprouting buds growing in the flower beds underneath the windows, pushing past the melting snow to reach the sun.

If he were to sum the house up in one word, Tony would probably describe it as... _quaint._ Definitely not something he'd ever stay in, but functional nonetheless.

He took another moment to simply stare at the building before opening the car door and slowly stepping out. "Stay here, Hap. This shouldn't take too long."

"I don't know, Tony. Maybe I should come with you."

"Oh, yeah. You know what? I think you're right. Lord knows how I'll manage to defend myself against the little old lady on the other side of that door. I mean, we really should have brought back-up."

The man smirked down at his driver as Happy threw him an unimpressed look before reaching over to the passenger seat and pulling up a magazine, flicking it open more harshly than needed before pointedly turning away from Tony as he began to read it.

The billionaire couldn't help the chuckle that rose out of his throat. With all that had changed in his life over the past few months, it was nice to have a few consistencies, mainly that bugging Happy _never_ got old. Like... _ever._

Currently dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt with a thick leather jacket overtop, Tony hoped the outfit was casual enough to not draw any unwanted attention as he walked up the steps and stopped in front of the door.

Feeling a strange sense of unease wash over him, Tony found himself hesitating as he stared at the worn-down door in front of him. His fingers twitched at his sides and he could hear his heart thumping just a little bit louder. Stealing a deep breath and shaking the ridiculous notions out of his head, the man lifted up his hand and curled his fingers into a fist, reaching out towards the wooden structure.

The door swung open before he could so much as graze it, the man rearing back slightly in surprise. The woman standing on the other side of the door was obviously just as surprised as he was, jumping in shock as a strangled gasp fell from her lips and she pressed a hand to her chest.

Taking a second to catch his breath, Tony stared back at the woman and found himself mildly surprised. She wasn't what he'd been picturing. Instead of a sweet older lady in her mid to upper sixties, this woman was on the younger side, probably only in her early thirties. She had chocolate brown hair that swept past her shoulders, clear, ivory-tanned skin and light hazel eyes that reminded the billionaire of his intern's.

She didn't look like the sweet neighborly soul. She looked... _hot._

Now, the old Tony Stark probably would have made a move on her right then and there, catching her attention with some cheesy pick-up line and waving around his money. But his affinity for women had taken a sharp decline after Pepper. There just wasn't much...motivation there anymore. Not when every woman he met couldn't hold a candle to his ex.

Besides, he was here for another matter entirely, one that took _top priority._

"May Brenner?"

The woman, having taken a second to compose herself as well, lifted her head to meet his gaze, neither of the two saying anything for a second as they simply stared at one another. The billionaire waited for the plain shock in her eyes to transform into awe, confusion or any of the other starstruck looks that people always got whenever the suddenly found themselves in his presence.

However, he was not expecting her look of surprise to morph into one of resignation and... _frustration_ _?_

The woman straightened up, not frantically as if she were trying to correct herself for him, but slowly and with precise movements, never taking her eyes off of him as if he were some wild animal about to pounce on her the second she turned away.

Suddenly finding himself feeling even more awkward than before, Tony decided to try and initiate the conversation once more. "You...you _are_ May Brenner, right? I've got the right house?"

He waited for her to reply, only for her mouth to give no twitches of movement. Instead, she continued to stare at him, her hips cocking out slightly as she folded her arms over her chest. "I was wondering when you'd finally show up." She murmured softly, voice sharp and hard despite its quiet characteristics. Tony felt like a teenager about to be scolded by a parent or a teacher.

Safe to say, the feeling was not one he enjoyed.

"Sorry?" He asked in a confused tone, cocking a brow as he tried to play off the uneasy nerves currently prickling at his skin. It wasn't very hard to do, but the fact that he had to do it at _all_ was what bothered him.

The woman - _May_ , he'd have to presume, considering she hadn't told him otherwise - said nothing once again as she simply stepped aside and gestured for him to come inside the house. After taking a second to process the current turn of events, the man found himself walking inside of the little building. Stepping into what he could assume to be a living room of sorts, the man tried not to make it obvious as he glanced around and scoped out the area.

The living room was small, with a two-person couch pushed back against the wall and a plush recliner with a few tiny rips in the corners, small pieces of felt dribbling from the holes and onto the wooden surface below. The kitchen could be seen farther into the room and a hallway off to the side led to a few wooden steps that trailed off towards a second floor before disappearing from sight.

May gestured towards the couch. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm sure it's not all that hard for you." She called as she walked over towards the kitchen. "Anything to drink? Water? Tea? Coffee?" She asked as she opened up her fridge.

The itching call of coffee made Tony's mouth water, but deciding to just get this meeting over with as soon as possible considering the tense atmosphere that was obviously present, the man decided not to prolong their talk. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." He murmured as the woman walked back over with a glass of water for herself. She sat down on the edge of the recliner and took a sip before setting the glass on the side table next to her.

She pursed her lips and turned to face him, eyes sharp and calculating as she stared at him. Tony stared at her as well only to jolt slightly as he realized she was waiting for him to say something. Geez, what was with him?

"So, you were expecting me?" He asked, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat. "You often get a lot of billionaire's showing up on your doorstep?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Too many for my tastes, if I'm being honest." She muttered.

"I can appreciate honestly. Though I think I'm safe in assuming you mean Mr. Parker across the street, right?" Tony asked, tapping his fingers together.

May didn't say anything outright. Her face remained neutral and passive. Tony had to admit, she was _good._ Over the years, he'd developed a fine eye when evaluating those around him, some people easily being read like an open book and others reserving themselves to deeper chapters and pages that he had to file through just to get to the crux of their personalities. But eventually, he'd always find it. Even if it took a second.

However, with this woman, he could honestly say he wasn't getting _anything_ from her. Nothing but a strange sense of agitation with him that even _he_ couldn't understand. As far as he knew, he'd never even met this woman before today.

Of course, lately he hadn't been the media's favorite icon so perhaps that had something to do with it.

However, before he could dwell on it anymore, May opened her mouth once more. "So, _Mr. Stark,_ to what do I owe this little visit?" She asked, though her tone of voice let on that she already knew to some degree. _How?_ Tony had no idea.

Maybe leaving Happy in the car _was_ a bad idea.

Still, this was not the time to be hesitant. Not when he'd finally found a lead on the case that was Peter Parker. Ever since their little argument on Saturday, the man hadn't been able to stop thinking of a little tidbit the teen had let him in on in the heat of the moment, mainly concerning one lifelong neighbor.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his position on the couch. "Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you about Peter Parker."

With that, the woman pursed her lips and nodded her head slowly. The cross look, however, quickly melted into a smile as she lowered her head and chuckled under her breath. "Right..." She breathed softly, fingers tapping against the glass in her hands, the sharp clicks as her nails made contact with the hard surface echoing around the small room as her body seemed to take on a new tense posture.

Tony could already feel something bad was about to happen, if it wasn't already underway.

"Tell me, _Mr. Stark,"_ The woman started, harping on his name for a moment too long for it to be casual. "Just _what_ about him would you like to know, hmm? Or more specifically, just what about him do you want me to share with you?"

It was obvious the woman was eluding to something, but Tony, perhaps just hoping to skirt by on feigned ignorance for as long as possible, chose to ignore it as he continued on. "Well...I guess whatever you can give me is good enough."

May nodded as she wet her lips. "Of course. Of course."

She set her glass down on the table before her and crossed her legs. "Well, I suppose there are a number of things I could tell you about him." She started. "I _have_ known him for quite some time. But I'm guessing you already know that." She narrowed her eyes at him and threw the man a small smile.

It only made him squirm.

"I could tell you that his favorite color is yellow of all things, or that he'll eat anything you put in front of him as long as there's a salt shaker nearby, of that he's capable of falling asleep almost _anywhere_ you put him, but..." She trailed off, voice darkening as her face hardened, eyes sharpening. "...something tells me that's not the kind of information you want to know, am I right?" She snapped.

Realizing things were worsening by the second, Tony realized he could no longer keep his mouth shut. "M'am, I-" He started, but the woman was not done. Far from it, actually.

"No. See, I think you're looking for something just a little more _specific_. Something just a little more _useful_." She hissed, uncrossing her legs as she leaned forward, the atmosphere in the room so palpable it was almost hard to breathe. Of course, that might have just been Tony.

"Tell me, are you wondering about the kinds of things he tells me? Do you wanna know what he shares with me? Do you wanna know if he's ever told me something that might just be a little too secretive to find anywhere else?"

She was out of the chair now, body tense and rigid as she stood stiff as a board, eyes boring into the man before her. "Do you wanna know if he's told me any secret passcodes that one could use to hack into the database of Parkstem? Do you wanna know if he's told me about the newest models and latest inventions his father's concocted?" She leaned closer, Tony rearing back slightly as she approached.

"Do you wanna know if he's a good enough _tool_ for you? Do you wanna know if it's a waste of your time to trouble yourself with him, or if you're actually gonna get some useful information to use against Parker out of him? Huh?! Is that what you wanna know? Is that what you wanna hear, Mr. Stark?!"

The woman quickly turned on her heel, Tony blinking in shock as she snatched the glass of water off of the table below her. The billionaire slowly and cautiously rose up to his feet as she grabbed the glass and tipped it back violently, the contents draining down her throat before she pulled it away once more, the remaining liquids sloshing around the sides as she slammed it back down onto the table.

Tony knew where this was going. He knew what she was talking about, and it made him sick. It made him just as sick as when Rhodey and Pepper had insinuated it back when he's first gotten into this mess. It made him just as sick as when he'd questioned _himself_ over why he'd agreed to mentor the boy, wondering the same things this woman was for a brief moment before dispelling the thoughts from his mind, assuring himself that such notions couldn't be farther from the truth.

However, convincing the woman before him of such a fact was going to be much harder than it had been to convince himself.

Taking a second to steel himself, Tony finally seemed to find his voice. "Mrs. Brenner, I-"

"You know...I am so _sick_ and tired of people like you." She muttered, effectively cutting him off as she didn't even bother in turning around. He could see her fingernails thrumming against her crossed arms, however, displaying her boiling emotions.

"Rich billionaire _assholes_ who think their money acts as some sort of shield, some...some sort of barrier against any and all consequences that your actions can drum up. Thinking that you can get away with _anything_ because you have the money, the power, and the pull to _do_ anything." She growled, whirling around to throw her glare straight at the man. "But you know, at least Parker _tries_ to cover it up. At least he's a good enough liar to fool those idiots out there into believing that he's some white knight, that he's the best thing to have ever happened to this city as if he's some saint that graces us all with his presence and his multi-billion dollar smile that says _'i can do no harm'!"_ She snarled, fisting her hands together as she gritted her teeth tightly.

"But _you..._ you just strut around, flashing your money, your power, your _name_ all over the place without a care in the fucking world cause you're _Tony Stark_ and your name says it all! That's all you need!"

Tony couldn't say anything as the woman stalked closer. Couldn't move as her eyes blazed with a fury that burned so pure it could only have been brewing over _years_ of time. It had been _years_ since a complete and total stranger had ever spoken to him with such conviction, such...such rage that the man couldn't do anything but freeze.

And Tony Stark didn't freeze. But these past few months had been _full_ of surprises, so what was one more?

"Well I've had it. I've had it with you people. And I've had it with _monsters_ like you and Parker thinking they can use a little boy however they want! Using him however they see fit without even giving it a second thought, without regretting their actions, without even _thinking_ about him!"

She let out a loud breathy laugh, filled with venom, with pure unadulterated rage. "No. _Fuck_ that. I've had to sit here and _watch_ that psychopath across the street do horrible things to that boy for _years_ without being able to do one goddamn thing about it because that's Richard Parker and I'm some no-name waitress down at the local diner who could definitely use the cash and publicity that would come from making such a claim, which is actually what people would think I'm doing it for. And Peter would be caught in the crossfire."

With that, she leaned forward, their noses nearly touching as she stared at him without flinching, without blinking, without a single care crossing her mind of the repercussions that might come from threatening such a high-power figure like Tony Stark.

"But if you think I'm gonna keep quiet as you come in here and do the same...then you have another thing coming, _motherfucker_. I may just be one person, but I will do whatever it takes to keep you away from that boy." Her eyes seethed as her words flew from the tongue like daggers cutting through the air. "I won't let you hurt him." With that, she roughly grabbed onto the man's wrist and jerked him towards the door.

"Now get the **fuck** out of my house."

At her touch, the man seemed to snap out of whatever stupor he'd fallen into as he blinked back into reality and dug his heels into the ground, whirling around to face the woman. "Now hold on a second here-"

"No! I don't wanna hear whatever lies you have to spew, you son of a bitch!" The woman snarled as she raised a hand, seemingly done with restraining herself as she took a swing at him. Tony yelped and ducked under the first, latching onto the woman's wrist.

She growled in response and aimed a kick at the man's shin. Tony buckled slightly but kept his grip tight as he twisted her arm around her back, the woman thrashing as she let out a long string of curses that would make even him real back slightly.

"Would you calm down for one frikkin second here?!"

"I'm calling the cops, you fucker!"

He could feel her nails digging into his skin as he tried to keep her subdued long enough to say what he needed. "Just _listen_ and-"

"Fuck off! Don't you **_dare_** hurt that boy!"

"I'm not trying to hurt him! I'm trying to _help_ him!"

Her struggles seemed to weaken slightly at that, but after a second of hesitation she was thrashing about once again. "Oh, shut up you little weasel! Don't pretend that you're doing him any favors! I know you're just biding your time until you get exactly what you want and-"

 **"I KNOW ABOUT RICHARD!"**

May froze, her body going rigid in Tony's grasp. The man panted heavily behind her, grip tight on her wrists as he studied her movements, or lack thereof. He couldn't see her eyes considering he was facing her back, but judging from the tight coiling of her muscles, the man could tell she was struggling with some sort of internal debate.

"What about him?" She asked, voice tight and sharp, though it was obvious she was searching for a particular type of answer.

The man let out a small sign as he released the woman, May quickly whirling around to face him. Tony tensed for a brief second, wondering if she would leap onto him once more, but after a moment passed with no such attack, the man shut his eyes and let out a deep breath.

"I...I _know_ about him. About...what he does."

The woman stared back at him, unmoving and silent as his words rang clear. She swallowed thickly, eyes never leaving the man's face. "And...and just _what_ is it that you know about him?" She asked, though her voice faltered slightly.

Tony gave a small shake of his head. "Not as much as I wish I did, but...I know what he's doing to Peter. Well, at least I think I have a pretty good theory." He growled under his breath just loud enough for the woman to hear. She blinked at him, eyes suddenly filling with something other than anger. "D-did...did he tell you about it?" She whispered, her voice reaching a volume Tony hadn't even known it could reach considering all the yelling that had just taken place.

Assuming she meant Peter, the billionaire shook his head with a small scoff. "No, you kidding? When I tried to pry it out of the kid, he nearly bit my head off with denials. Though that pretty much gave me all the confirmation I needed."

May let out a small bitter laugh at that. "Yeah...I know how that feels." She sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck that Tony noticed was extremely close to what Peter did whenever he was nervous of uncomfortable. May lifted her head to stare back at the billionaire, face falling into a look of solemn confusion. "So you're _not_ trying to exploit him?" She asked softly.

Tony stared at her for a moment before letting a sigh bubble past his lips. "I think we should start from the beginning."

 **. . . . . .**

A few minutes later found May walking back out of the kitchen, now wielding two glasses of a liquid that was definitely _not_ water if the amber color was any hit. But at the woman's words of " _If there was any a time to drink, I think now seems to be about right"_ , Tony raised no arguments.

She handed him a glass and sat down in the chair opposite him, a loud sigh of exhaustion falling from her lips as she leaned against the back of the chair, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face with her one free hand. "I guess everything started around twenty five years ago." She began. "My husband and I had been great friends with Mary, Peter's mother. We'd gone to college together. She'd studied geneticism while my husband has studied engineering and I had worked down in the nursing department," she started off with a small smile.

"Did you know Richard Parker too?" Tony asked, ears perked to pick up on the story that perhaps would explain the mystery that was Peter Parker.

May tilted her head from side to side. "Not as well as Mary, but...yeah. We knew each other." Her eyes grew thoughtful for a moment. "He was different back then. Nicer. Still a bit of a loner but...nice."

"So...different from the two-faced asshole he is now?"

The woman scowled and shook her head in exasperation, confirming his statement before continuing.

"Anyway, this was before he became this big-shot manufacturer. Before all of that, he was actually a lepidopterist."

"A leper-what now?"

"Lepidopterist. He studied butterflies."

Tony's scoffed in disbelief. "Seriously? That hard-ass used to flit around flower fields all day with a butterfly net in hand?"

May shrugged her shoulders. "It's true. Maybe wasn't the most _flashy_ thing on campus but it sure got Mary's attention." She muttered with a roll of her eyes. "They fell for each other our sophomore year and stuck to each other like glue after that." She sighed, a look of sorrow morphing her features before she blinked back into reality and took a sip of the scotch. "After graduation, we all went our separate ways and it just happened to be random chance that we all ended up in the same neighborhood years later. But...things had changed. _Richard_ had changed."

Tony's eyes narrowed, the similar sinking feeling he got whenever he noticed Peter trying to cover up a bruise or stutter out a choked-up response settling into his stomach. "Changed how?"

May scowled. "More like how he is today, only less...severe." She waved a hand before her as she spoke. "Apparently - and this is all from what Mary explained to me - after college, Richard moved into genetics with her. I guess her passions rubbed off on him or something," she explained. "In fact, I actually think I remember her saying something about them working for Oscorp for a time."

Tony cocked a brow. "Oscorp? _Really_? Or all the places-" He started before trailing off with a shake of his head. "Well how do you get from working within a ' _supposedly_ ' great company to starting one of your own in little less than a year's time?"

May nodded her head at the man's words, swirling the glass in her hands so that the liquid slashed against the sides. "Apparently, there was this _huge_ scandal. Something or other revolving around stolen tech and fraudulent research, but whatever it what, it got Richard fired from Oscorp and his name _slandered_ through the mud. Mary left not long after that." She narrowed her eyes. "Loyal till the end I guess." She muttered.

Tony blinked at the new information he was receiving, information he never would have even _begun_ to think about, let along search for. All he'd known about Parker was his involvement with Parkstem Labs. All the other record were either inconsequential or sealed and Tony hadn't thought anything of relevance would have been stashed in said files so he'd ignored them.

Obviously that had been a mistake.

"It wasn't long after that that Peter came into the picture."

The billionaire cocked a brow. "Doesn't really seem like the best time for a baby all things considered."

May let a small smile fall onto her face at that. "That's what I thought too, but...once you saw him...you didn't really care," she chuckled, a small gleam of happiness entering her eyes. "He was just...he was so..." She shook her head. "This was after Richard had been fired so money was pretty tight for them but...Mary made it work. I don't think Peter ever really knew about it cause of how well she hid it," she sighed wistfully.

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat, dreading the answer to the question now forming on the tip of his tongue. "And...and Richard? How was he with Peter?"

May shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't know. He was always locked away in the basement or out trying to clear his name."

The billionaire felt his fingers tighten around the glass in his hand, stomach churning. "So you don't know if he ever..." He didn't even want to finish.

May's eyes sharpened at that, an intense fire burning within her irises. "Mary would have _never_ let him lay a hand on her son. Not while _she_ was around."

Despite the woman's harsh tone, Tony couldn't help but feel a small piece of the weight hanging in his stomach chip away at that. At least there was _some_ good news in all of this. May swigged another drink before letting out a long sigh. "A few years passed and eventually Richard discarded the genetics field altogether and began to go into manufacturing tech...I guess sort of what you did a couple years ago."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Yeah, but I have...money. Starting up your own company like that isn't something you pay for out of pocket, especially when you've just been fired from your job and have a wife and kid to look after."

"Well that's just the thing." May interjected, face twisted into a look of confusion. "Apparently Richard got some funding from an outside investor that helped him with launch."

"Outside investor?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "That's all Mary ever told me. Maybe all she knew about it."

Tony glanced away at that, eyes hard in thought as he tried to rack his brain for anybody with the money to invest so much into a risky company. The man made it a point to know people with the money and power to ever interfere with his endeavors, and he could only think of a handful that would _maybe_ try such a thing. Still...the whole thing seemed a little...off to him.

"It wasn't long after that...maybe a month or two that..." May's voice seemed to shift, taking on a much softer tone. "..t-the incident occurred." She cleared his throat before turning to look at him. "Did...did Peter-"

"He told me a little." Tony admitted. "Something about a break in."

May bit her lower lip before ducking her head away. "I was never told the details." Her voice was almost too quiet for Tony to hear, but interrupting her wasn't something he was about to do."Nobody really was. All I know is that there was an intruder in the house when Mary and Peter were home. Richard told the police he was probably after some of his newly designed models or something like that...but apparently he found Mary instead." She placed a shaky hand to her mouth. "God...if they'd found Peter..." She whispered more to herself than to Tony, who still heard nevertheless.

The woman fell silent for a moment. The billionaire bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to do as his fingers tapped nervously against the side of his leg. What he'd told Peter was still valid now: emotions _really_ weren't his strong suit. Thankfully, before the man could dwell on what his next course of action should be, May cleared her throat and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"She was taken to the hospital with two gun shot wounds to the chest and pronounced dead a little while after." She let out a small sniff. "We didn't even have time to make it over there before..."

Tony watched her clear her eyes once more before deeming it safe enough to ask a question. "How did Peter take it?"

"How you'd expect a four-year-old to take it. He didn't really understand it. All he knew was that his mother was gone and that she wasn't coming back."

"And Richard...?"

The woman took another sip from her glass. "We didn't really see much of him. We showed up to the funeral and he didn't say anything," she murmured. "People went up to him, shared their sympathies and condolences and he'd nod along, say a thanks here and there, but...something was off." She growled. "There just...there was just something... _wrong_ about it."

Her grip on the glass tightened as her face turned into a scowl. "He wouldn't even hold Peter's hand."

She blew out a breath and her face calmed. "After that, things...things didn't get better. Those _assholes_ he calls associates moved into the house a little while after that when he was finally making enough money to expand the house. We started seeing less and less of him and more and more of Peter...including some things we didn't want to see _on_ Peter."

Tony felt the weight in his stomach sink even further. "Mary was gone..."

"...so there was nobody to stop him." May finished with snarl. "Don't get me wrong. As soon as we caught wind of it, Ben and I were on it like that." She snapped her fingers, the sound nearly making Tony wince in the otherwise silent room. "But..."

The billionaire narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. Richard has a way of shaping things exactly how he wants it?"

"People only know what he _wants_ them to know." May growled out. "Besides, he has enough friends in high places to ensure his free reign. Plus, I'm sure you've become aware of Peter's skills in...twisting the truth?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that. It's just that...he seems to be a little pro at lying about...you know." He muttered. "In fact, it's almost not surprising that most people haven't taken any notice cause he's so good at keeping them off his trail. But...when he tries to do the same thing with me...it's like..."

"Like he couldn't talk his way out of a wet paper bag?"

The man raised a brow, a small smirk appearing on his face for the first time since entering the house. "I take it you've noticed too?"

May let out a small snort. "He used to be the same way with me and Ben. He'd come over at night looking absolutely miserable and just...stand there. Tongue-tied and flustered...as if he couldn't form a coherent sentence." Her face grew thoughtful. "It's almost as if...he didn't _want_ to lie to us...so he couldn't. Almost like he... _wanted_ us to know...wanted us to see the truth."

As the woman dwelled on her words, Tony couldn't help but do the same, specifically something she'd said at the beginning.

"Used to be?"

May blinked back into reality and turned to face him. "Huh?"

"You said he ' _used to'_ be the same way with you. Did something happen?"

Considering the woman had been quick to share so much the past hour, Tony was genuinely surprised when she turned her head away and remained silent. Despite the fact that he was _desperate_ for any information he could get in regards to Peter, he knew that he was asking for a lot, especially considering the kind of memories he was making the woman dredge through.

"You don't have to tell me, Mrs. Brenner. I-

"Ben happened."

The man quickly shut his mouth, watching the woman seem to have some sort of internal battle with herself before deciding to continue. "It...it was around two years ago. Peter had had a particularly rough evening at home and had come here for a little break." She started off, her voice low and slow, almost as if she didn't trust herself to be able to continue. ""Ben decided to go and take him out for ice cream to cheer him up. I...I was at work."

Her fingers curled around the glass and around the armrest of the chair she sat in, hands shaking slightly. "Along the way...along the way there was a-a man. A mugger. H-he had a gun. Ben...Ben pushed Peter behind him."

Her voice trailed off after that, more tears spilling down her cheeks as she silently brushed them back.

"I'm sorry." Tony murmured quietly, unsure as to what he could really say. He didn't think there was anything.

It took little longer than before for May to compose herself, but Tony didn't push her. She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and cleared her throat before continuing, red eyes staring into the glass in her hand. "After that, something changed with Peter." She signed. "He stopped coming over here. He stopped talking to me and...whenever he did, he wouldn't have trouble lying right to my face, as if...as if I were just another stranger he had to convince.

She swallowed thickly before turning to face him. "Peter's a good boy, Mr. Stark." She murmured softly. "Maybe that's why he stopped telling me things. I don't think he wants me to get involved with this anymore. Doesn't want me to be a part of this. Might explain why he gets so frantic any time I bring up exposing his dirt-bag father." She growled, grip tightening on the glass once more.

"It's just...that _madman_ has the power to do _whatever_ he wants _whenever_ he wants without any restrictions, consequences, anything!" She growled. "He can do whatever he wants to that boy and get away with it! Peter used to be such an outgoing, energetic little angel! Now he's some...obedient tool that only ever says what his father _wants_ him to say without question, without any resistance because that **asshole** has beaten it into him and-"

Before she could say anymore, the glass in her hand shattered, the noise startling both her and Tony as the pieces littered floor beside her foot. She grunted in surprise before stooping down onto her knees, shaky hands attempting to grasp the tiny pieces as she placed them in her palm.

As her trembling hands struggled to pick up a particularly small piece, another, more calloused hand grabbed it instead. Her tear-streaked face lifted to stare into Tony's, the man holding a look of resignation.

"He's just a baby." May whispered as another tear rolled down her face and splattered down next to the glass. "He's just a...j-just a..."

She didn't say any more as the pair continued to collect the glass, brushing the shards onto the table before them. After a moment, Tony seemed to find his voice once again. "Peter...has made it very clear to me that he doesn't want me to get involved with his father's... _business."_ He explained. "Doesn't want me snooping around asking questions."

May shook her head with a sigh. "Sounds like him."

"So...I made a deal with him." Tony continued, unsure as to how the woman before him would respond to such information. "I told him he doesn't have to tell me anything about what goes on in that house and that I would never ask about it and-"

"You _what?"_ May shouted, blinking in shock as she reared back. "How can you expect to help him if you just gave him a free ticket to never talk about it?!"

The billionaire held up his hands. "I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out." He asked, waiting for May's shoulders to release some of their tension and for her face to fall neutral once more as she sat back on her haunches and motioned for him to go on. The man hesitated for a moment, contemplating what he was really going to say before letting out a long sigh and rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I know what it feels like to not be able to trust anybody, to...to wonder whether anyone around you is who they say they are or if they're just using you in some way, manipulating you to get what they want." He muttered, mind reeling to decades past. May said nothing as she sat and listened.

"I know what it's like to be...afraid of _everything_ around you." He murmured, glancing down at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them back and forth. "So...I made that deal. I made it so that he won't have to be afraid around me...around the tower." He explained. "He won't have to fear spilling something he shouldn't say, something he shouldn't _do_. Maybe that way..." He paused for a moment, sucking in a breath before continuing. "Maybe that way he'll actually start taking of his own free will. If...if I can get him to do that...if I can get him to _trust_ me, then..." He lifted his head to gaze back at her. "...then I'll finally be able to help him."

May stared at him for more than a moment, bright hazel eyes boring into dark brown as she seemed to soak up the man's words, searching his face for any and all traces of lies, deceit or malice. Finally, after a moment, she rose up to her feet, Tony quickly mirroring her actions as the two stood off against each other. Licking her lips, the woman gave a small nod of her head.

"I'll do whatever I can to help."

Internally, Tony let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Though, it wasn't all that surprising to find that he'd been nervous about the woman's reaction. After all, taking in Peter's intimate relationship with her, gaining her trust would just be another step on the road to gaining Peter's, a journey that would be all the more difficult if someone the boy trusted and valued didn't hold the billionaire in a certain light.

Nodding his head, the man let a small smirk fall onto his face. "I guess the best thing you can do is... _not_ badmouth me to the kid if you can." He only half-joked.

May smiled as well, lowering her head before giving a small nod. "When Peter told me about this...about this little internship," she started, gesturing to the billionaire. "I was... _incredibly_ skeptical." She muttered before her face softened and her eyes crinkled slightly. "But...you should have seen the look on his face. It...it was a look I haven't seen there for a while." She smiled. "He actually looked...he almost looked...happy." She swallowed the small lump forming in her throat before turning to face the man seriously. "It's been nearly ten years since I've truly seen my baby happy, Mr. Stark. If you can bring that back...if you can bring _him_ back..." Her voice faltered and trailed off, eyes growing misty once more.

Tony stared back at her before giving a nod of his head. "I'll do what I can." He said, his voice more serious and determined than it had been in a long time.

And for the first time since Siberia, Tony felt something change in him, something shift and morph. The anger and sadness and pain began to crack and pulse, transforming into something else, something greater than him: determination. If he could do something good with that despair in him, if he could use it to do something other than make things worse (like he usually found himself doing), then he'd do whatever he could to make it a reality.

He wouldn't fuck this up...no matter what.

He cleared his throat and turned away, the sheer force of emotion filling the room nearly sweeping him off his feet. "I should probably get going. I have somewhere I need to be, actually."

May nodded as they began to walk back over to the front door. "Of course. You know..." She paused once they approached the entrance, Tony already halfway outside as he turned back at her call. "...you're not who I thought you were, Mr. Stark." She murmured, her lips creasing into a smile. "You're not what they say you are. I hope you know that."

His chest pulsed again and his arm gave another phantom twinge of pain as an indistinguishable feeling began to form in his stomach, but the man pushed it back before he could really acknowledge it. He smiled back at her and extended out his hand. "Call me Tony."

The woman stared at him for a moment before sliding her palm into his. "May."

Quickly separating, Tony began to descend the steps of the run-down apartment, making a mental note to bring his city renovations organization over to this side of the city to help transform such buildings. However, as he began to reach for the handle to his car door, the man turned back around. "Oh, and before I forget...is there anything else about Peter than you can think of that I might need to know? It doesn't have to be like... _life-altering,_ but...anything that might come in handy?"

May furrowed her brow in thought, pondering the question for more than a moment where Tony nearly decided to forget about it, until her face lit back up and her mouth curled into a knowing smirk.

"I might have something..."

* * *

 **Thursday - April 7, 2016**

 **Midtown School of Science and Technology - Building 1**

 **04:13 p.m.**

"Alright guys!" Mr Harrington called from his chair, rising up as he adjusted his glasses. "That's enough for today. Great session, kids." He said with a large grin as he walked over and clapped a hand on Michelle's shoulder, the girl placing the index cards on the podium as the teacher lended a hand of aid. She took it and stepped off the podium, moving over towards the others as they walked off the stage and approached.

"Well this is just great." Charlie muttered as he threw up his hands in exasperation. "It's bad enough having to know all about the literature of _Western_ culture. Now we gotta study up on Africa, too?"

Michelle couldn't help the smirk off her face. "Apparently."

Ned shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I don't think it'll be _that_ bad." He chimed in.

"Well that's kind of easy for us to say, man." Peter said softly. "Physics and math are the same in Africa as they are here." He chuckled, the others doing the same as Abe, Sally and Charles all gave fake pouts of annoyance.

Nevertheless, the teens quickly moved off the topic as they moved over towards the back of the room, where their backpacks and stuff were all strewn about, none of them actually having had the motivation to organize them when they'd first started practice.

"Well, I don't know about you, but my parents sure are excited for this next match." Abe said with a smile, his faint accent leaking through in his words, which had all the other teens nodding their heads along with him...well, _almost_ all the teens.

"I know, right?" Cindy beamed. "My mom is so pumped for this, probably more than me, actually." She rolled her eyes. "Bringing the camera and everything. Probably gonna post it online or something."

Michelle shrugged her shoulders. "Not necessarily a bad thing. We could always use the sponsors and the more people that see us the better so..."

"Yeah, but I don't want hundreds of thousands of people watching me screw up any questions!" She protested.

Peter cocked his head to the side and raised a questioning brow. "Welp, it's a high-school decathlon match, so ' _hundreds of thousands of people'_ seems like a _bit_ of a stretch." He teased, the girl playfully swatting him in the arm.

"Nah, I feel you, Cindy. My parents haven't shut up about this stupid thing. Honestly, I think they just want more stuff to brag to their friends about." Ned mused with a smile, the others chuckling before shrugging their shoulders in agreement.

"I don't know, guys. I think it's safe to assume that we'll have at least _one_ extra chair..." Flash chimed in, the others turning to look at him as he approached, a nasty grin on his face as he stared over at Peter. "... _right_ , Parker?"

The mood instantly shifted as the boy approached, the group seeming to quiet as they all deflated to some degree. Dealing with Flash always seemed to have that effect on them. Peter glowered at the boy. "Leave me alone, Flash."

"Ah, come on, Parker. I'm just playing with you." He grinned as he walked over and placed a tight arm around Peter's shoulder, the boy flinching violently at the touch, his face contorting into a look that almost resembled pain. "It's not like it's _your_ fault your dad doesn't seem to care enough to come to these meets. Maybe he's just trying to save you the embarrassment. I mean, it's gonna be hard enough messing up in front of a crowd of people and your peers, the last thing you need is your dad witnessing it, too. IF anything, he's a pretty realistic guy." He sneered, tightening his hold on the boy. Peter grunted, resisting the urge to push Flash as hard as he could just to get those hands off him, off him, off him!

Thankfully, Ned seemed to pick up on his friend's discomfort, pushing Flash away himself. "Shut up, Flash. Stop being such an ass!"

"Yeah, man. What's your deal?" Charlie growled, face scrunching in annoyance in a similar fashion to his peers.

If Flash noticed the looks, he didn't let it on as he shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, guys. You all know it's true. Parker's old man just doesn't give a rip. Perfectly normal reaction when your kid's below average in pretty much...well, everything." He gave Peter a punch in the arm.

( _He's right. He's right. He's right.)_

Michelle's hands quickly met her hips as she pursed her lips, eyes blazing in a silent anger seen only in the slight twitching of her fingers. "At least Peter's dad would have something to watch. Your parents have to just sit there knowing their kid isn't good enough to make it on the actual team, so he has to settle for First Alternate." She smirked up at his shocked face. "I'm sure they're very proud."

The boy blinked at her for a few moments, the sounds of the other teammates giggling filling his ears, which were quickly growing red. His face, however, quickly began to match that shade as he glared at her before turning his sharp eyes towards Peter. "At least my parents care about me enough to show up." He snapped with a vicious grin, knowing he'd stuck a nerve when Peter took a small step back.

Instantly, the voices of Peter's teammates rose up in indignation, only for Mr. Harrington to walk over. "Alright, alright, calm down you guys. Save some of this energy for next week." He chuckled, obviously unaware of what their voices had been raising for.

Peter, however, didn't feel like sticking around to listen to the boy's words anymore. Twisting around on his heel, he stooped down and began collecting things into his bag.

"Peter, come on, man. Don't listen to him." Ned called, glaring over at Flash as the boy grinned victoriously. But before Peter could even open his mouth, Flash was speaking once again. "Hey, you know what? Since you keep striking out with your dad, how 'bout you try changing it up? Why don't you go ahead and ask _Tony Stark_ if he can come to the meet." He sneered with a laugh, the other teammates, besides Ned and MJ seeming to back off slightly at that.

Considering most of they were still unsure as to how the whole Stark Internship really played out, their options on defending their teammate were sorely limited.

Peter stared down at his bag, not lifting his head at Flash's words despite the boy's goading. "What's the matter, Penis. Scared your idol won't show up either? Afraid he'll think you're worthless too?"

Peter instantly shot up to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder as he wordlessly began to make his way over towards the exit doors, ignoring the calls of Ned and his teammates, the only voice he could really make out being Flash's.

"Go ahead and face the facts now, Parker! A loser like you won't ever be anything! And everyone around you already knows it!"

The doors slammed shut behind him, the teen letting out a shaky breath as he clenched his backpack straps tightly, hands shaking ever so slightly. He scrunched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, blinking back the slight veil of mist now covering his irises. Flash was wrong. He knew he was. He _always_ was.

( _Not about this.)_

Peter ran a hand through his hair as he shrugged his backpack off his shoulder and leaned back against the wall behind him, head resting against it. He'd be lying if he said Flash's words hadn't got to him. But the main point of issue was that they _had_. That jerk had been bullying him for years, and usually Peter was easily able to block them out. To ignore them and keep on moving.

But today...something about them. Something just made him squirm, made that room too suffocating to be in. And the sad thing was...Peter knew why, despite what he tried to convince himself.

Flash was right.

He was right about his father. Every word. There was no _way_ his dad would ever want to come to the meet. To him, it wasn't even a blip on his radar. Not even worth glancing at...just like him. It always seemed like the things he was good at...his father never seemed to care about. Mathematics, physics, building Lego sets, cooking...none of it seemed to click with his father. None of it was worth noticing.

No...all he seemed to notice were the things Peter _couldn't_ do. He noticed every time Peter stumbled during training. He noticed every time the boy was late coming home. He noticed every time he took _one step_ out of line.

Sometimes it made Peter wonder...if the bad stuff was the only thing his father would ever notice...then what was the point of trying the good stuff?

Why bother?

The boy sighed and pulled his backpack up onto his shoulder once more, scrubbing tiredly at his face as he pushed off the wall and began to shuffle across the lawn of the school, head down as he made towards the sidewalk.

A sudden honk by the road had the teen jumping near out of his skin. He whipped his head up and balked at the sight of a sleek car pulling up beside him. The back window slid down, revealing the smirking face of one Tony Stark.

"Feel like playing hookie?"

Peter blinked at him before cocking a brow. "School already ended...like, two hours ago."

"...Feel like doing some extra-curricular activities?"

"You mean like Decathlon? You know...the thing I _just_ finished and-"

"Just get in the car, kid."

Peter couldn't keep the grin - albeit a confused one - off his face as he walked over towards the door on the other side of the car and opened it, sliding into the seat next to Mr. Stark, the man currently scrolling on his phone with one leg resting atop the other. "Step on it, Happy." The man called to their driver, the car pulling away from the curb before Peter could rethink and go back on his decision to enter.

The teen quickly strapped on his seat belt before awkwardly glancing over at Tony. "Umm..." He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck as he threw the window next to him a sidelong glance. Tony set his phone down and looked over at the teen, unable to suppress the small smirk that grew onto his face at knowing exactly what the boy was thinking.

"Not that I'm not...happy to see you, M-Mr. Stark, cause I am! I mean, it's...it's cool and all you coming to my school...especially after hours so nobody sees me with you and- Not that I don't wanna be seen with you! It's just..." The boy seemed to bite down on his tongue as his face grew a little redder.

The billionaire gave a small roll of his eyes. Despite the growing amount of times the two had spent together, Peter still couldn't stop acting like a stuttering mess at times.

"Relax, kid. I'm not about to kidnap you or anything." The man finally said.

Peter opened his mouth to reply, only to tilt his head at the billionaire's words. "Well, I mean...you still haven't really t-told me where we're going so...I kinda think we're on the _verge_ of a kidnapping." He murmured with a cocked brow a a small hint of a smile.

Tony scoffed and rested his arm against the lip of the seats. "Trust me, kid. If I wanted to kidnap you, I'd do it in a _much_ more original way." He noted. "Something that lets you know you're _definitely_ being kidnapped by Tony Stark."

Peter couldn't help the small snicker that escaped his lips before clearing his throat, his face now noticeably brighter than when he'd first entered the car, something Tony took small pride in. "Alright, so why are you... _almost_ kidnapping me?"

Tony inwardly winced at that, realizing he hadn't really come up with a great excuse as to why he'd been near the school. He couldn't just say he'd come from the tower cause that drive _alone_ was nearly half an hour and Peter would ever believe that he'd driven all that way just to pick him up from school on a day where they weren't even meeting at the tower. Hell, _Tony_ would never believe that cause it's something he'd _never_ do.

Then there was always the option of telling Peter the truth; telling him the real reasons for him being in the neighborhood. And yet, something told him that such a conversation wouldn't go over well with either of them. After all, not even a week ago, he'd promised the kid he wouldn't go snooping into his life and he was literally only there because he'd been trying to dig up information on the kid from the only person he semi-trusted.

Yeah, so that was definitely out.

"What? I can't just drop by for a hello?" He hoped the pure confidence he was exuding would be enough to fool the boy.

Unfortunately for him, however, Peter was a pretty smart kid.

Peter furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Something tells me Tony Stark doesn't just drop by places for a friendly hello?" The teen murmured as his body shifted slightly, Tony just barely picking up on the twitching of Peter's fingers against the leather seats as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly

The billionaire hesitated for a moment before deciding to stick to the confidence route as he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Yeah, you got me there, kid. Truth be told, I was already in the neighborhood."

With that, Peter's posture shifted even more as his face fell into a shroud of distrust as he fully narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose, staring the man up and down as if the answers themselves were tattooed to his skin if he could just find them. His hands now fully curled around the edge of the seats as his muscles coiled underneath his shirt sleeve. "Uh-huh..." His voice practically dripped unease. "...And, uh... _why_ was Tony Stark in the neighborhood and not at his Tower?"

Tony turned his head and stared down at the boy, Peter seeming to shrink ever so slightly underneath the man's gaze but still holding his own as he waited for the man's answer. Knowing now was not the time to start backing down, the billionaire narrowed his eyes as well, almost seeming to challenge the teen as he answered. "Avengers stuff." He finally answered. "Secretive Avengers stuff, actually. Secretive as in _'not the type of thing you share with nosy interns'."_ He said.

Something about the man's answer seemed to flick a sort of switch in Peter, for the boy immediately lost whatever fire had begun to burn in him as his eyes glanced away towards the ground and his shoulders loosened and sagged ever so slightly. "Right..." He murmured softly, fingers continuing to softly twitch against the leather.

The man silently cursed himself for the answer, wondering if maybe he could have handled the situation better before shaking the thoughts out of his head. Since when did Tony Stark doubt himself? Maybe he really _was_ just having a bad day.

Nevertheless, there was a reason he hadn't just gone straight back to his tower after meeting with May and he planned on fulfilling such a task.

"But now that you mention it..."

Peter glanced back over to him as Tony spoke again.

"...super secretive Avengers shit can _really_ work up an appetite." Tony let out a loud melodramatic sigh before shoving Peter's shoulder, the teen jumping slightly as the sudden touch. "So you know any good places to eat around here?"

Peter stared at the man for a moment, mind reeling from the sudden shift both he and Tony had just performed within literal seconds, going from slight tension to lackadaisical joking. It was...strange to say the least, but Peter couldn't say he wasn't revealed by the shift in focus.

The teen felt a small smile form on his face as he gazed at the man before him.

"Yeah...I might know one."

* * *

 **Thursday - April 7, 20**

 **21 St. Queens, NY - Delmar's Deli-Grocery**

 **04:32 p.m.**

"You know, Pete. When a place claims to have the ' _best sandwiches in Queens'_ you'd think they'd be able to afford tables."

Peter couldn't help but giggle as he glanced over at Mr. Stark, who was grimacing at the curb they were currently seated upon, heir legs stretched out in front of them. Tony murmured a silent thanks that he wasn't wearing one of his more expensive outfits today considering the amount of potential gum and grime they were now seated upon.

The teenager beside him, however, didn't seem all that bothered as he simply shrugged his shoulders. "It adds to the ambiance."

"Thinking it adds more to a health code violation."

Peter threw the man a crooked look. "Mr. Stark...Rhodey told me that when you were in college, you got drunk and ate a burrito you found stuck to the bottom of his car floor for three bucks."

. . . .

. . . .

"I don't care. I got three bucks. If anything, I _won_ in that scenario."

"Apparently, you also won a week's worth of food poisoning, too."

"Fucking...I'm never letting you hang out with Rhodey anymore. He's tarnishing my image in your impressionable eyes."

They _both_ were unable to suppress their laughter that time right as Mr. Delmar walked out, a bag in hand. "What's up with this, little Boss-man? You making friends with people other than me? How could you?"

Peter glanced up at him and gave a smile of his own. "Sorry, Mr. D. I'll be sure to buy extra sandwiches to make up for it."

The older man gave a fake grumble of annoyance. "Yeah, yeah." He muttered as he shoved the bag into the teen's hands. "You say that _now_. You know, I should charge you extra now that you got a billionaire for a friend."

"Seems legit." The teen said with a shrug, Delmar cracking a smile of his own as he shook his head and walked back into the store.

Tony stared at the kid and blinked while a smirk made its way onto his face. "My, my. Look at you. Seems little Peter isn't as shy as he appears." He teased as Peter handed him his sandwich.

The teen merely shrugged his shoulders. "I've known Mr. Delmar for as long as I can remember. He's practically family at this point."

"Hmm...seems like a happy guy."

"Uh, yeah...speaking of _happy..._ Are you sure Happy's alright with just sitting in the car like that?"

"Nope. I'm sure he's hating every second of it."

"Mmm...you're a good friend."

"Mm-hmm" The man mumbled as he unwrapped the sandwich Peter had given him before taking a bite. The teen beside him couldn't withhold the smirk that spread onto his face as he watched Tony's eyes grow comically wide at the first taste.

"I'm buying this restaurant."

"Wha - no. It's not even a restaurant."

"I'm buying this - what is this shit?"

"It's a bodega."

"I'm buying this goddamn bodega."

Peter laughed and gave a small shake of his head before going back to his own sandwich, taking a bite right as Tony turned towards him. "So, why were you staying so late after school today?" He asked, ignoring the fact that he already knew the answer in favor of getting the kid to speak.

"We had Decathlon practice today." The boy explained. "We have it every Tuesdays and Thursdays to prepare for the different types of meets and tournaments we have every couple of weekends."

"Decathlon. Isn't that basically the _'absorb any piece of knowledge you can and hope for the best'_ thing?"

The teen chuckled. "Basically. I mean, everyone on the team specializes in one main thing, chemistry, literature, history, all that jazz. So we don't have to know everything about everything. Just...everything for your specific specialty."

"Uh-huh. So what do you specialize in?"

Peter shrugged. "Math and physics."

Tony took another bite of his sandwich. "How many people are on this team of yours again?"

"Uh...seven, with one alternate in case one of us gets sick or anything."

The billionaire furrowed his brow. "Right, so with all those nerds-in-arms, how come I only ever hear two names leave your mouth when you talk about friends. What are they again? Ted and MJ?"

"Ned and MJ."

"Whatever. My question still stands."

Peter glanced down at his sandwich for a moment before giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "I...I don't know." He murmured, voice growing much softer than it had been moments ago, almost as if he were less sure of himself. "I mean, those guys are great, don't get me wrong. They're...they're really nice and - well, _most_ of them are really nice but let's not get into that." He quickly added when he saw Mr. Stark look as if he wanted to ask about that.

"It's just...I don't know. People...people aren't really my thing."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Not making a whole lot of sense, kid."

Peter gave another hurried shrug of his shoulders, seeming to tense slightly. "I don't really know how to explain it. It's just..." He seemed to struggle to find the right words. "People are so...unpredictable."

The billionaire paused for a moment. "Alright..." He said slowly, coaxing the teen to continue.

"It's like...okay, look. You deal with numbers all the time, right?"

"Pretty crude way of describing it, but yeah. I guess you could say it like that. I prefer ' _rocking bomb-ass mathematics into super cool robot suits'_ , but whatever floats your boat."

Peter turned away once more. "Well, either way, you gotta know what I'm talking about, right? Numbers, equations...they're just so...stable. So steady. Numbers, infinite as they may be, are still so finite at the same time. So absolute. They never change. They never falter. There's never a surprise, never a shock when your dealing with formulas and patterns. Everything is laid out nice and neat. The answer's always there if you can just find it. There's always a pattern there if you can just pick it out."

Tony said nothing as Peter glanced down at the ground, eyes seeming to fill with something unreadable.

"Numbers don't lie...People do." The teen murmured softly. "Math, physics, all that is just...safer. I guess I'm just...better suited for a lab than a house party."

( _How pathetic.)_

Tony stared at him for a moment before turning away. "Sounds pretty lonely, kid." He murmured.

Peter said nothing for a second before giving another shrug of his shoulders. "Lonely's not _always_ bad."

"No...but it can get pretty exhausting. Trust me. I know." And he _did_ know, cause everything Peter had just said was exactly how he'd used to feel in college, when he was locked in his dorm room ignoring Rhodey's pleas for him to get out a socialize. He'd given the same excuse, albeit with a lot more snark and rude hand gestures while locking himself in the bathroom as his roommate threatened to break down the door if he didn't go out to Shana Murphy's party.

Peter continued to stare down at the ground, face hardening slightly as he scrunched up his nose in displeasure. "Yeah, well. Even if I _wanted_ to, most people at school would only wanna hang out cause they know my dad's got a _shit-ton_ of money and there's no _way_ I'm dealing with that so..." He glared down at a crack on the concrete. "I don't have much _choice_ now, do I?" He growled.

Tony reared back ever so slightly at the teen's harsh tone before Peter backpedaled. "Sorry...I don't mean to be rude."

The billionaire scoffed. "Kid, I don't think your definition of rude really matches up with mine." He chuckled, falling quiet when he noticed the teen's face remained passive and downcast. The man blew out a small breath, rubbing the side of his face before shrugging his shoulders, hoping his casual and laid-back posture might encourage the boy next to him to do the same.

"But, I know how you feel, Pete. Anyone at MIT who didn't hate me for my attitude was trying to suck up to me for my money. It was either one or the other. There was never any happy medium. Just two sides of a pretty fucked up coin."

Peter fiddled with the paper wrapper of the sandwich. "How'd you deal with it?"

"Same way you're dealing, I guess. Focusing more on math and science than on people. Figured it was just easier that way." The man paused for a moment. "Of course, there were also _staggering_ amounts of drugs and alcohol thrown into the mix so maybe there are some _slight_ deviations in our stories."

"I don't know, Mr. Stark. You don't know what I do behind the dumpsters during lunch."

The man threw a weak glare over at the boy currently giving him a small smirk, Tony shoving the teen lightly in the shoulder. "Ha ha, Parker. Trust me, if I ever catch whiff of you doing even _half_ of the shit _I_ used to do, you'll be scrubbing the oil off of each and every surface in my lab for _months._ And you'll need a ladder cause DUM-E gets that shit _everywhere._ "

Peter chuckled. "Okay, okay. Message received."

Tony gave a small smile before drifting back to the topic at hand. "Like I said, back then, I basically did what you're doing now. And I can admit now, it wasn't the _healthiest_ thing for me."

The boy said nothing as he let out a small sigh and glanced over at the man beside him, hazel-brown eyes flashing with so much emotion held within that Tony nearly had to look away as they fell on him, each and every flicker of gold hidden within them seeming to pierce his chest with each shift. "So...what did you do?"

Tony swallowed the small lump that had formed in his throat at the realization that Peter was asking him for advice, in his own subtle way. He _wanted_ the man's help. Even if it was for something minuscule as to how do deal with social pressures that come with school and their suffocating hallways.

Still...it was a start.

The man smiled. "Welp, I guess I took a page out of your book. The few friends I _did_ have, I stuck to like glue. Or course, your current friend group of a whopping _two_ people technically is _double_ what I had in college so I kinda can't fault you for that."

He hesitated for a moment before reaching ha hand out to place on Peter's shoulder. Expecting the slight flinch that he felt underneath his fingers, the man tried not to let it bother him too much this time. "People _are_ complicated, kid. I'll give you that. But that doesn't mean you cut them _all_ out." He murmured, feeling the thick irony of his words hitting him full force as he thought back to the bottles of liquor in his lab sitting and waiting for him.

"And yeah, it's hard branching out. So much so that I never even bothered back then. So if it seems like a bit much now, then that's fine. But you still need people you can rely on. People you can depend on. So whether that's two people or twenty people, any number is good enough. Or, how 'bout this? Any _positive_ number is good enough." He added with a wink.

Peter smiled up at him. "I get the picture." He murmured before crumpling up the piece of paper than had been in his hands. "Thanks."

Tony removed his hand from the boy's shoulder and let out a small sigh as he turned back to stare out at the street before them. "Don't mention it, little Boss-man."

The teen chuckled and shook his head, only to think back to earlier in the afternoon when he'd been fidgeting in his Decathlon seat. The teen bit his lower lip and twitched his fingers slightly as he contemplated asking what was resting on his tongue.

( _Don't do it.)_

 _(Why would he care?)_

"You know..." He started before he could think better of it. "For Decathlon...t-there's...um...ther- we have a championship meet c-coming up...coming up in a week, in case...if you wanted to...go."

Tony glanced over at the teen in mild surprise, obviously not having expected the teen to fumble out an invitation. Peter's face flushed red as he fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. The billionaire gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Nerd tournament, huh? I'll see if I can squeeze it in."

Having been expecting an outright refusal, Peter's eyes lit up in surprise at the man's response before he ducked away again and hastily nodded his head.

A small ghost of a smile fell onto Peter's face, only for him to jump in shock as he saw something flash before his eyes. "Gah!" He grunted as he hunched over and rubbed his fists against the skin over his eyes, trying to blink back the dots that were flashing before him.

"What the -" Was all the man next to him had time to say before more flashes were going off in their faces, along with a growing number of voices all increasing in volume as people seemed to flood in from each and every direction.

"Goddamn it." Tony growled right as another flash made him duck his head away. He'd been hoping the casual look of his clothes and of the car they'd been driving would be enough to stall the paparazzi storm long enough for him and the kid to have a quiet time together before booking it out of the public eye, but of course, that wasn't the case.

The flood of unintelligible questions began to float around the air as the crowd of people with flashing cameras continued to grow around them. "Is this how it always is for you?!" Peter shouted over the hysteria as Tony stepped in front of him, hoping to shield the teen from the flurry of lights around them.

"Pretty much, kid!"

"This sucks!"

"Could be worse! They could be snapping pics while you vomit uncontrollably after winning a three-dollar bet! Still counting that as a victory, by the way!" He shouted back while Peter laughed into the back of the man's shirt.

A large force pushing and shoving past the mob had Tony visibly relaxing in relief as Happy smacked a camera out of one extra-pushy man's hands. Reaching the pair before him, Happy latched onto Tony's wrist while the billionaire grabbed onto Peter, the three forming some sort of human chain as they began to fight their way back to the car.

The voices around them continued to mingle and mix right up until they were nearly leaping into their car, the slamming of the doors effectively locking the screaming voices outside with their owners as the mob tried to push their cameras as close to the windows as possible. The frenzy didn't die down as they pulled out of the parking lot and sped away as fast as possible.

Peter watched through the window as the mob slowly got smaller and smaller as they drove away before sitting back up in the seat once again, glancing over at Mr. Stark, who face held a mixture of annoyance and resignation, as if he'd dealt with such scenarios for all his life.

Peter was almost sure he had been.

"Should...should I be worried about that?"

Tony glanced over to him and gave a small shake of his head. "Forget about them, Pete. They were more focused on me than you anyways." He murmured, Peter giving a small nod of his head in reassurance. He remained silent for a moment before glancing back up at the man. "Um, Mr. Stark? T-thanks for taking me out today. It...it was nice." He threw the man a small smile. "I liked it."

Tony stared at him for a moment before giving a small smile of his own and lightly punching the teen in the arm. "Yeah? I liked it too, Underoos. Nice to get away from five-star dining and enjoy a good sidewalk sandwich."

Peter chuckled at that as Tony leaned forward and knocked on the barrier currently up between them and Happy up front. After a second, the screen came down and Happy glanced at them from the mirror.

"Parker residence, Hap." The billionaire called, to which the driver gave a small nod of his head. "Oh, and play some music while your at it. What are you driving? A hearse?"

The man up front gave a large roll of his eyes before lifting up the barrier once more. After a second, a light melody began to play through the car, Peter nearly doing a double take as he heard just _what_ it was.

 _"~Good Day Sunshine! Good Day Sunshine! Good Day Sunshine!~"_

 _~I need to laugh and when the sun is out,~_

 _~I've got something I can laugh about~_

 _~I feel good in a special way~_

 _~I'm in love and it's a sunny day~_

He quickly turned towards Tony, eyes gleaming. "You listen to the Beatles?"

Silently praising his own victory while also giving thanks to May and her know-how when it came to her faux-nephew, the man feigned an innocent look. "I'm more a Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath kind of guy, but I'm willing to throw on some of these nowadays."

The truth was that the man didn't like listening to music that threatened to put him to sleep. In reality, he really only liked those other bands because their music was loud, jarring and more likely to keep him up whenever he pulled his all nighters. Anything else was just too...calm.

Of course, the teen next to him didn't seem to share in his thoughts as he nearly bounced in his seat. "That's so cool! My mom used to _love_ this kind of stuff. She's put on anything and everything from the 80s and earlier. I grew up with this stuff!" He beamed.

"Hard to believe someone your age still likes this stuff. Isn't most of the music nowadays on par with setting a garbage disposal on high while dropping a box of silverware into it?"

Peter shook his head. "Music nowadays isn't _that_ bad, Mr. Stark. It's just...this stuff is special, you know? Means something...more. To me, at least." The teen said almost shyly as he ducked his head with a smile.

Tony gave a small chuckle."Guess we'll have to make you a playlist in the lab, then."

The teen's smile grew wider at that as he gave an eager nod of his head before tuning back into the song. As the car gently rolled down the busy New York streets and Peter silently bobbed his head to the melody, Tony found himself tapping along to the tune more and more. In fact, it was hard to keep a grin off of his face as the man witnessed a rare moment of genuine joy spreading across Peter's face, wishing with all his might that such a look could be a permanent fix on the teen's features.

But for now, a single fifteen-minute car ride would do, with music he had to admit...he didn't _totally_ hate.

* * *

 ********UPCOMING TITLE CHANGE********

 **On Tuesday, May 18, title will be changing to "A Beautiful Lie"**

* * *

 **Okay, so I'm really sorry about the upcoming title change cause I know it might be confusing to some people and I'm gonna post an extra chapter on Monday explaining the title change in more depth.**

 **The main reason for the change is that this story has evolved greatly from what it was when I first started. And with those changes, the story elements that connected back to the title "Colors of Venom" are no longer a part of the story. So I've decided to change the title to have it fit where the rest of the story is going.**

 **I'm sorry for any inconveniences this might bring but my mind is made up about this. So, on Tuesday, expect this story to change from "Colors of Venom" to "A Beautiful Lie"**

 **PS - new cover art will also accompany this change if you all wanna check it out. Link to my tumblr and Deviantart are on my profile page.**

 **Anywho, on to the actual story, you all finally get the true taste of May's testiness and DANG can she curse! You also get the first taste of Peter and music, which will play role in this story. It won't be in every chapter or anything major like that, but every once in a while you'll see a little song here or there. And since it always bugs me when stories lay songs that I have NO IDEA what they are nor am I gonna take the tome to actually look them up, I've decided to use songs that most likely the MAJORITY of people already know. Classics and genuine hits from the 80s, 70s, whatever. You might also wanna pay attention to the chapter titles from here on out HEHEHE**

 **Thanks to these people for favoriting:** _ **Vaseball,** **Jordanden,** **Kissy-the-legend,** **OneTumblrMinute,** **Starrynyte04,** **evanescentdawn,** **pearlfoot,** **tleaf20,** **HermioneJeanStark,** **Holikaw** **SongNoFound,** **ColourMeSurprised,** **JDantes15,** **Kazuma-Arclight** **Saturngirl16,** **TVD66,** **Dragontail777,** **lovingsiri,** **nicecream,** **Tightpants182,** **treeko313,** **cc577,** **FishieGurl,** **PandaAlexandra,** **deathtobugs,** **Kiku-Goldenflower,** **Trash no. 1,** **themarvelousriver ,** **Fanficloverforever2005,** **Samara Holme,** **WombatUnicornPotato,** **Espinela,** **Ichigo1217,** **LuckyNumeralThirteen,** **jawahir,** **Seanq,** **bueflame467,** **ARocks21** **erinjoypangelinan ,** **blueerimartian,** **MiaLupin,** **DivinelyAdira,** **,** **BeeHideLover,** **Quicki,** **Sirius-lan,** **Tysonlovesfishponies,** **AlternateRealitiesX2,** **FreetobeZee,** **Hilseo,** **Lilayroza,** **MysteriousUnknownStranger,** **Puro the Dark Latex,** **stormysonya,** **whenlifegivesyalemons,** **Kiwicl** **Liv3Lov3Music,** **Princess Viris Potter,** **andreaisabel1995,** **kitlyn13,** **StoryBookGirl,** **TaygetePlejade,** **Divagirl2,** **Nobody312,** **Thunderfran,** **,** **Satoshistar7,** **Yexius,** **SarahS18,** **Caramellatte560,** **princesasuhina,** **KillaZillaX10A,** **RedTears123,** **Arthron1911,** **KitsuneNaru,** **bookworm383,** **Honeycomb787.** **LorBellNinjaSpider,** **Lycian,** **,** **MultiFandom69,** **sugar1113,** **lomilu,** **Kdeluca,** **Avengers191895,** **JOJX,** **TSAT,** **potatokarat,** **CandyBurst,** **Kidchaos9,** **anavit,** **Miss Suger Unicorn,** **Mewaponny,** **Oa409s,** **SarouhAckermaniaque,** **foreverafangirl93,** **DarkSolaris57,** **Jasmin32001,** **fairytalebliss182,** **PheonixQueen15,** **SunflowerKC** **Happyriot, C** **ronoHex** **TheRavengirl101** **Ira, Fedotova** **Redwolf0,** **evee1223,** **catoutthebox** **The Sapphire Prodigy,** **flameingshadow7,** **Sorciere6174** **artsycherry,** **hisano927,** **36143,** **Isyweird,** **Jaternal-Paneach,** **katie owl,** **Wxnderland,** **HarryPDestiel,** **ThatSunny,** **GottaGetBackToHogwartss,** **HaythamDaPirate,** **RustedEagleWings**_

 **Reviews:**

 **purplefmale2 : Here is your update!**

 **evanescentdawn : You're definatly gonna see more evolution within Peter and Tony's relationship as the story progresses so don't worry about that. And I was really worried about their personalities when I first started this story so thank you for the confidence boost!**

 **Karmitara : Aww! You've shed tears for my story! Don't cry, child! Wipe your nose with your phone and keep on reading!**

 **blueflame4676! AHA! I've ensnared MORE from your family! Soon I'll have you ALL!**

 **zZCoalpawZz : They have T-shirts**

 **Toni42 : Summer is here, baby! So hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently.**

 **Tightpants182 : Aww! You're so sweet! Jesus, it keeps surprising me how awesome all of my readers are! I love all you bitches!**

 **fan since start: Yes indeed my little gumdrop! One whole year!**

 **Hot Cocoa and Marshmallows: DUDE! I literally have the EXACT same problem! Just remember DOuchebag Dad for this one and you should be good to go!**

 **cargumentluv** **:** **"Intense" is a word you'll come to associate with the Cons and Peter's dad fairly often so just a warning. I have since come down from my Endgame depression but I'm still ignoring anything and everything that has to do with that movie for the time being until...oh, I guess till I'm 65.**

 **Books-and-Cleverness : Dude, it's been a few months and I STILL haven't processed. **

**Phoenixhp5 : Yep, I've watched it four times and my eyeballs still won't connect with my brain. **

**F laing Beauty: Dude, after Endgame, I was in SUCH a funk that I didn't write for at least two weeks so after a little bit of a delay here is the next chapter!**

 **stormysonya : AHH! THANK YOU SO MUCH! CAPS LOCK IS THE BESTTTT! Also, rereading it, too? Dang, kid. You is committed.**

 **Agent blue rose : Mine still hasn't recovered. **

**Pokemath101 : Yeah, i kinda liked the interlude too and I was planning on making some more scattered around the story, but thanks so much for giving your opinion on them! That really helps me plan them out knowing that my readers don't mind them and are on the same train as me so BLESS!**

 **PrincessNaina : Right now, I'm hiding im my fantasy world where Thanos never happened and everyone just hangs out at the tower playing Twister or something. **

**Ashfirebolt : Aww! Thank you so much! Welp, I hope this next update brings you some joy! Now that's it's summer, I'l really try to get chapters out there faster than before. **

**OrangeSunset1701 : Yay! We're gona get so much more Tony Peter interactions as this story progresses so don't you even worry about it! Also, Endgame didn't happen. What's Endgame? Are we talking about chess or something?**

 **JOJX : Same, man. My fantasy world is this story. So...who's Thanos?**

 **zk95379 : Interactions between characters is my favorite thing to write but I don't think I'll really have ANY ships in this story. It isn't really about romance. It's more about family than anything else. **

**Black Cat: Twenty One Pilots isn't really my thing. In fact, _bands_ in general aren't really my thing. If I see a song I like, I'll just listen to THAT. The band itself doesn't really influence whether I;ll check out a song or not. But I'll still give it a listen just for you, boo!**

 **CoteWolf : Your wish is my command!**


	16. Theory of Mind

**Chapter 16: Theory of Mind**

* * *

 **Saturday - April 9, 2016**

 **Queens, NY - Middle Village**

 **02:43 a.m.**

Peter stared up at his handiwork, watching the ex-car thief dangle from the lamppost by his feet as he swayed back and forth, the string of profanities he most likely would have loved to spew being held back by the wad of webbing currently plastered over his mouth.

"Next time, maybe control that potty mouth of yours and you can avoid that little detail." The hero called as he leapt up onto the building. "What kind of example are you setting for future car thieves?"

With that, Spider-Man shot a web at the nearest building ledge and propelled himself up, sticking to the side as he swung himself over. With a few more webs and a couple of well-placed swings, the teen was on his way, flying through the air as the wind whipped around him.

The city flared with life beneath him despite the late hour. Of course, that was to be expected. New York City wasn't really known to sleep.

The bright lights glittering around him mixed with the constant cacophony of engines, horns and the roar of late-night club crowds created a mix of stimuli that continued to remind the teen of just how exhausted he was.

He could feel the heavy pull of sleep tugging at his muscles as he swung, the realization of just how much energy it took to swing through the sky hitting him hard, a fact that usually evaded him whenever he was spending the night beating up robbers and busting potential drug deals.

His day had been a long one, what with two back-to-back tests in Chemistry and English that he was pretty sure he at least passed, which was a feat of its own considering English was about as far from his strong suit as one could get, a couple of hours with Mr. Stark, where he'd continued to mess around with the designs and blueprints that the man had given him in regards to the arc reactor project he'd taken on, and finally, a _long_ round of training with the Cons coupled with extra experiments to make up for the time he'd missed hanging around with his newfound mentor.

After such a day, Peter had been ready to call it one and collapse into his bed, rolling under the covers and shielding himself from the outside world as a five-year-old imagines their covers can do with monsters.

However, as he'd entered his room, his eyes couldn't have helped but drift to the window, his mind instantly roaming around the city, picking up every instance of trouble that could flare in his absence. Every car that'd get stolen, every purse that'd get snatched, every Ben who'd get hurt.

Safe to say, Peter had been stripping on his suit before the guilt could even manifest.

Still, after spending near three and a half hours swinging around the streets of New York, Peter could honestly say he was near his limit. As he swung onto a building that was only a few paces away from his house, Peter absentmindedly wondered whether or not Mr. Stark received updates on his suit and whenever it was active; whenever _he_ was active.

Considering the man had given away a multi-billion dollar suit to a random fourteen-year-old with spider-powers and a knack for recklessness, Peter was willing to bet a lot on the answer being ' _yes'_.

The teen briefly entertained the idea of what Mr. Stark would think about him swinging around at such late hours of the night. Or...really, early hours of the morning considering what time it currently was. The man would most likely abash on the behavior, citing some fact that teenagers needed a certain number of hours to sleep.

As he prepared to fire off a web and swing off once more, Peter wondered what he would do if Mr. Stark told him to stop crime-fighting to such hours.

Would he listen?

If anyone else told him to, he knew he would blatantly ignore them. Peter Parker wouldn't hesitate in obeying to the letter. But Spider-Man...Spider-Man was his own person. He didn't have to take orders. He didn't have to obey.

So, then...why couldn't he answer his own question?

The teen shook his head. He was too tired to entertain such confusing notions. Instead, his lifted up his arm and prepared to fire off again.

"Jesus Christ, Pete. Could you fit any more primary colours onto that suit o'yours? Swear it's like you swallowed the Fourth o'July and spit up the American Flag."

Spider-Man whirled around so fast he saw the world blur around him as he instantly tried to pinpoint a body to match the words. He quickly got his answer.

"Must 'ave been one 'ell of a fight between you an' Captain America in the fabric section of Michael's." Danny chimed with a smirk and click of his tongue.

The bout of shock that has seized the young hero's body quickly melted into a lopsided tilt of the head as he approached with a wary look. "Danny? Danny Dockett?"

"In the flesh."

Peter let out a small sigh of relief as he moved forward towards the older teen. "What the heck are you doing here, man?" He asked as he gave a quick scan of the streets below for any nearby signs of life before safely removing his mask, face flush from the recent crime fighting. "I...I haven't seen you in, like, forever."

Danny gave a shrug of his shoulders. "You know I ain't one to stay in one place for too long, cuz. But spring's not too far along so I figured I might as well move more towards the city center again." He chimed, London-born accent seeping through with each word as he stretched his arms above his head and folded them underneath his neck.

Peter tilted his head and cocked a brow. "Yeah, well it's still pretty cold out here. You really shouldn't be strolling around without a jacket on."

"Ah, bugger off, mate. Can't feel a twitch. I ain't even shiverin'."

"That's...not a good thing."

"Well if you're expectin' me ta' be concerned 'bout that, you're gonn' be sorely disappointed, bruv."

Peter chuckled under his breath and gave a small shake of his head. "Nice to see you haven't changed, Danny."

The teen threw him a scrunched face before flicking him off, Peter rolling his eyes at the gesture.

Peter hadn't been lying when he'd said it'd been a while since the two teens had seen each other. After all, it's been nearly a year since Peter had last caught a glimpse of the homeless boy currently standing before him. Still, despite the gap, Danny still looked about the same as the last time Peter had seen him.

The sixteen-year-old was still tall and lanky, taller than Peter by a good margin, with long black hair that stretched down to the base of his neck and piercing blue eyes that could halt you in their tracks with their captivating burn. However, despite the boy's drifter status, he disguised such a fact fairly well, his clothes not giving away outright that he roamed the streets. With a minimal number of holes in the plain red t-shirt and dark black jeans he wore, Danny could just as easily pass for a normal teenage boy that neglects to listen to his parents when they tell him to do the laundry

"Welp, doesn't much look like you've changed either, mate." The older teen called as he hopped up onto the edge of the rootfop, balancing on the ledge as he glanced over towards his long-time childhood friend. "Still goin' 'bout with the ol' rooty-tooty-web-an'-shooty gig, huh?" He maneuvered his fingers to mimic Peter's whenever he fired a web.

Peter couldn't help but scoff at the wording before placing his hands on his hips. "Goin' on a little more than a year now." He nodded. "But you'd be surprised with just how much around here has changed since you were last here, D."

The older boy's eyes seemed to light up at that. "Well don't keep me beggin', you cheeky little skank. Spill."

. . . . .

The constant blaring of car horns and the deep thrumming of distant clubs grew less and less vibrant as the night weaned on, though they never ceased. The noise of the city never stopped, merely shifting in volume throughout the hours of the day and the lulls of the night.

Nevertheless, the ever-present noise served as a constant reminder that the city continued to flare with life as the time passed around the two boys, who continued to pace the rooftops of the nearby buildings.

"Hold up, cuz. You're tellin' me that you didn' bother to check your room for anybody before waltzin' inside on the bloody ceiling in full costume?!"

"What the heck did you expect me to do? I didn't know anybody was gonna be in there!"

Danny threw him a strange look before shaking his head and pressing the cigarette between his fingers against his lips. "Bloody 'ell, Pete. It's a wonder you've managed to keep as many secrets as ya' have."

Peter scrunched his nose in indignation. "Whatever. I've done pretty well so far, man. Barely anyone knows anything!"

The older boy cocked a brow in Pete's direction before he gestured to himself. Peter huffed and folded his arms as he sat down on the edge of the rooftop, legs hanging off the side. "Oh, don't give me that. You hardly count. The only reason you know anything is cause ten-year-old me didn't know how to keep secrets."

"I feel like the more pressin' concern should be that ten-year-ol' you didn' know not to talk to strangers they find on rooftops."

Peter threw him a look to which the teen shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just saying, mate. There are more concernin' issues in that statement."

The spider-teen huffed out a laugh under his breath before letting out a sigh and resting his hands on the sides of the rooftop ledge, taking a second to just relax and breath. He hadn't taken the time to think about Danny in nearly a year, and despite the flame of guilt that burst at the idea of having forgotten one of his longest friends so quickly, Peter knew he couldn't really blame himself.

Danny didn't really run in the same circles as he did. It was sad, but Peter had to admit it was true. Just the fact that they'd ever even met in the first place was astounding. Despite the fact that it had been nearly four years ago, Peter could still distinctly remember the feel of the bricks against his fingertips as his little ten-year-old body had climbed up the side of the building right next to his room, desperate to get away from his father and the Cons for what little time he could.

The young boy had simply climbed up to the rooftop for some much needed peace and quiet. He hadn't expected to find another boy sitting on the rooftop as well, one who was much more nonchalant in starting a conversation and before he'd known it, little Peter had been spilling his guts to a complete and total stranger about...everything. His powers, his dad, anything and everything he could.

It was the one chance he'd ever get and he couldn't waste it.

To his credit however, Danny had taken it fairly well, only responding with a slightly impressed look and a "wow".

Of course, that had been before Peter had become acquainted with the Rules, before he'd learned to keep his mouth shut. He supposed his father was lucky he'd only spilled to one random homeless kid who didn't really have the capabilities to do anything. Especially considering Peter had made him swear a million times up and down never to tell anyone.

However, after their initial meeting, Danny had stuck around Peter's neighborhood. The teen had simply shrugged it off by claiming "rich people throw out the best shit" but Peter liked to think it was cause Danny had wanted someone to talk to as much as Peter had.

Danny had explained once upon a time about how his family had moved over from London shortly before his parents had died in a car accident. Peter didn't ask him about it and Danny never asked about his mom. It was almost like a mutual agreement they shared by not sharing.

However, with Danny's high-risk lifestyle, the gaps between their visits had grown longer and longer until Peter barely ever had contact with the boy. After all, it had nearly been a year since he'd last seen him. There were times when he'd wondered if Child Services had ever caught up to him or...he didn't like to think about the other options.

The other options always seemed to become the only options when he thought too hard about them.

Still, with all that had been going on in his life over the past few months, what with the Cons, his father, the Avengers, Tony Stark...it was nice to just...catch up with an old friend. Familiar. Safe.

Danny ran a hand through his matted hair before glancing over towards the younger teen. "So, how 'ave things been on the home front lately?"

Peter grimaced slightly as he tried to come up with an answer for a question he didn't get to share honestly all that often. "Ehh...they've been...they've been _something_ I guess. Same old, same old."

"Hmm..."

"I just..." Peter trailed off at that, letting out a disgruntled sigh as if the words were simply too hard to spit out. He scrunched his nose and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I don't know, Danny." He murmured softly, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees as his hands hung down in the air. "I'm starting to get worried. He's been sending out a lot more new recruits lately, hitting up all these tech firms."

The other teen nodded and leaned back slightly as if his suspicions had just been confirmed. "I had a feelin' that was him."

Peter turned and blinked in mild surprise at the other boy. Danny shrugged his shoulders and tossed a look towards the clouds above them. "Nah, I saw it on the headlines of a newspaper some bloke was readin' whilst I was down in the Bronx. What's he want with all that shit?"

Peter shook his head. "That's just the thing. I have no _frikkin_ idea!" He said with an air of exasperation. "He's never sent out so many people to do jobs before and-" He paused, lowering his head slightly in thought as he bit the inside of his cheek.

Danny leaned forward slightly at that. "What?"

"It's just...if he was really relying on these jobs to come back as successes. If...if he really needed the materials that he's been sending out these thugs to get for him...then he'd send out an elite task force. He wouldn't send out the rookies, the...the new recruits. He'd sent a team he knew could get the job done."

The older teen narrowed his eyes slightly and leaned back, sucking in another bout of smoke. "So what ya' thinkin'?"

Peter glanced over at him before swallowing thickly. "It's like they're...test runs or something. Trials for the new recruits to either pass or fail. If...if they pass then they move up one more ring on the hierarchy he's created with almost every single thug on the criminal undernet. And...if they fail..."

Danny grimaced and blew out a puff. "Let me guess...it's one less thug the police have gots to be worryin' about, huh?"

"Something like that. I don't ask too many questions. But I _do_ know there are plenty of new faces I see down in The Station all the time. Some I see more than once. Others...others aren't seen by _anyone_ again."

"And you said he's never done this kind o'stuff before, right?"

Peter let out a sigh and placed a hand to his forehead. "Usually he targets chemical plants. Labs. Things that have the ingredients and materials he needs to experiment and adapt his serum." Peter explained, blinking as Danny let out a groan and stretched his arms, pushing himself up to his feet.

"He's still workin' on that?" The teen asked as he popped his back and made to walk along the ledge again. Peter swung himself off of the ledge and stepped back onto the rooftop floor, making way for the other teen as he balanced along the edge once more.

"He's been working on that for years, D." Peter muttered. "He's not gonna stop till he figures out what made me so ' _perfect_ ' as he says." He growled.

"Aw, that's nice."

Peter cocked his head and threw the teen a strange look.

"What? That _sorta_ counts as a compliment. At this point you gotta take what you can get."

Peter ignored him and glared down at the ground. Danny watched him out of the corner of his eye and sighed, stopping his pace along the ledge as he turned to face the teen fully. "You still haven't told him where you actually got your powers from?"

The younger teen clenched his fists slightly as he stared at the cracks along the ground, tracing the ridges with his eyes as the words poured from his mouth, mind seemingly on overdrive as it spat out thoughts he'd been replaying over and over again for the past decade. "The longer I can keep him away from finding out the truth, the better. He can already be dangerous enough. Could you imagine what would happen if he finds out how to replicate the work that gave me my powers? Do you know how much damage he could do with an army of Spider-Mans and Captain Americas at his side?!"

"Michael's is gonna have to restock on red and blue fabrics, then."

Peter glared hard at the teen. "Danny!"

"Alright, alright..." The teen called, holding his hands up in peace as Peter let out a frustrated sigh and turned away.

"Come on, cuz! You gotta stop freakin'." The drifter called as he jumped down from the ledge and approached, flicking the cigarette bud down to the floor. "You've handled this shit all by yourself for - what? Seven...nine years? Point is...you're basically an expert in keepin' your dad in line from the shadows. Monitorin' him from the sidelines! Keepin' him reigned in." He explained, moving closer to press his hands into the sides of Peter's shoulders.

The teen reared back slightly at the touch, but Danny's grip was too tight for him to want to resist it. It was easier to just go with it. His eyes drifting along the lines of the teen's arms revealed that there were in fact no goosebumps along his skin. Peter filed it as odd but forgot about it before it could truly even register.

"You obviously know what you're doing or we would have been fucked a long time ago, mate. You've been doin' this all on your own forever now and you're pretty damn good at it, I'd say." He smirked and tossed his hands out to the sides to emphasize his point.

Peter soaked in the teen's words as the boy stepped back and turned to face the city skyline once more. He wasn't wrong, Peter had to give him that. It was true, as was the case with most things Danny stated in his long-winded rants.

Peter had been sabotaging his father from Day 1. It had started with simple things. Messing up a formula, changing a four to a three on a paper, adding a few drops of Chloride when it called for Acetide. But as the years progressed and his father's work had grown to more dangerous levels, Peter's efforts had equally grown larger and larger up to Spider-Man.

Peter could say over and over again that Spider-Man had become who he was to help the little guy. To keep people safe on the streets that were too small for the Avengers, too overcrowded for the cops. He could say over and over again that Spider-Man had been created to help out the city. But he knew that wasn't entirely true.

Spider-Man hadn't been created to help out the city. He'd been created to _save_ it.

Spider-Man was the epitome of Peter's fullest efforts to keep his father's work from hurting people, from letting it get too out of hand.

For the longest time, Peter had resigned himself to the fact that he would be alone in his endeavors. Lord knew he couldn't go to the police for a _number_ of reasons and he hadn't really known any other people with the power or capabilities to help.

At least...not back then.

"Well..." He murmured, a slight smile gracing his lips. "...I'm not _that_ alone anymore."

Danny turned around at that, eyeing Peter's face for a moment before his eyes narrowed slightly and he pursed his lips. "Right, right. Tony Stark. Forgot 'bout him." He murmured, the surface tone of his voice light and casual. But the undertones...they had Peter turning to face him.

"What?" The younger teen called, sensing the mood shift slightly.

Danny paused for a moment, lips pulling into a thin line as he seemed to contemplate something. "How'd ya'll come by meetin' again?" He asked as he lowered his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes.

Peter blinked for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "He needed my help dealing with the Rogue Avengers in Germany and he'd figured out I was Spider-Man so he asked for my help."

" _'Asked'_ for it?"

"Alright, so he _might_ have...blackmailed me into it - _just_ a bit, though!"

Danny pressed his tongue against the side of his cheek as he kept his eyes glued on the pack as he tapped it against the side of his hand, a small roll falling out between his fingers. "Uh-huh, and just what is it that you do with him anyway?"

"I...I help him out in the lab with different projects and on Spider-Man and...wait, where is this going?" The teen asked as he shook his head and gave the teen a strange look.

Danny didn't answer his question, instead choosing to pose one of his own once more as he twirled the cigarette between his fingers. "And you said he just... _gave_ you the suit? Didn't say anythin' else 'bout it?"

"No - Danny what are you getting at?"

The older teen stared at him for a moment before answering. "Just how sure are you of him, Pete?"

A sinking feeling began to pool in the bottom of his stomach, one that the boy tried and failed to quell. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, have you given some thought as to why _Tony Stark_ suddenly took such an interest in you?"

"I told you. He needed my help and-"

"And nothing else, Peter." Danny cut him off as he tossed his hands up in exasperation, popping the bud into his mouth and pressing it into the corner with his tongue. "He needed you. Bottom line. He needed you that _one_ time and now that that's over..." He trailed off, seemingly unsure as to how to continue for a moment before he reached into his pockets and pulled out a lighter. Peter flinched at the noise of the small device flicking open and watched as the flames licked at the top of the cigarette. Danny blew out a puff of smoke before glancing at Peter with a cocked brow. "Do you really know who he is?"

The feeling continued to worsen as Danny spoke, Peter shifting from one foot to the other as he began to grip the mask in his hands a little tighter. He tried not to let the discomfort show too much on his face but judging from the look Danny was throwing him, it wasn't really working.

He really needed to practice.

"Yeah, it's b-been like...like two months since-"

No, no. Do you know who he is...like really?"

"I don't-"

"Cause from what I'm hearing..." The older boy mused, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he took a small step forward. "...we aren't talkin' 'bout the same Tony Stark here. Cause the Tony Stark _I_ know has shown up in the news more times than I can count with stories that were more or less not great publicity. The Tony Stark _I_ know is kinda reckless and selfish. The Tony Stark _I_ know drowns all his problems in booze and partying. The Tony Stark _I_ and a lot of other people know, Pete...isn't a good guy." He blew a puff of smoke out from between his lips and tilted his head slightly.

Peter stared at the teen before him with wide eyes, watching as Danny pursed his lips together and shook his head. For a moment, Peter just stood there, letting the boy's words drift in and out of his mind. Words that had been repeated from the Cons after training sessions when they thought nobody was around to hear ( though secretly they hoped Peter would), from MJ and her condescending looks, from Falcon, and from May, though she tried her best to hide them.

Words that _he_ had allowed to enter his mind more times than he'd want to admit. And just like all those other times, Peter shook his head and forcefully pushed them away, drowned them out with all of the things Mr. Stark had proved to him, all that he had _done_ for him. They were wrong. They were _all_ wrong. So he said the one thing he'd told them all.

"He isn't like that." He ground out, teeth clenching together slightly as his grip on the mask tightened just a little bit more.

Danny cocked a brow. "Isn't he?"

"No, he _isn't!"_ Peter snapped, eyes flashing for just a second as his frustrations began to boil over. He was so tired of this. Of having to defend himself to the people around him. Of having to repeat over and over and over again the same defense, the same rebuttals that only _he_ could truly understand cause only _he'd_ spent time around Mr. Stark. But judging from the way Danny squared off against him, the other teen wasn't done voicing his thoughts.

"Then riddle me this, Peter." The boy scoffed. "He obviously knew about Spider-Man beforehand. He'd seen all the videos from what you say. That's probably where he found out about you. From all that crap on the internet from when you first started this, swingin' 'round saving people left and right in what could pass as a Home Ecs. project!" He sniped, Peter rolling his eyes and turning away.

"So if he knew all this, if he knew you were out there riskin' your life in doin' the right thing...then how come he only started to help you when he needed you for somthin'? How come the buddy-buddy friendship you got goin' on only bloomed when he wanted somethin' from you?"

Peter shook his head, shutting his eyes. "I-"

"Man, I see this all the time with the junkies and snitches 'round here. The cops get some fresh lead and they bring in whatever street rat they can get to spill somethin'! They don't care 'bout them, they only contact them when they need somethin' from them."

"That's got _nothing_ to do with this!"

"Come on, Peter! How can you not see it?!" Danny shot back, throwing his arms into the air in exasperation.

"Maybe cause I don't like to assume everyone around me is scum like you do?! Maybe cause I like to give people the benefit of the doubt unlike you!" Peter shot back, eyes locking on the teen in front of him. Danny seemed to pause at that, face morphing as his expression became unreadable. For a moment, Peter wondered if maybe he'd offended the boy, but when Danny cocked his head to the side and threw the boy a perplexed look, he assumed otherwise.

"Is that what you think you're doin'?"

Peter stared at him, unsure as to what he was pawing at. He furrowed his brow and glanced away as Danny shook his head and blew out a sigh from past his lips, running a hand across the back of his neck as he trudged over to the edge of the roof once more and sat down.

"Peter..." He called, said boy hesitating for a moment before reluctantly lifting his head. "I'm not tryin' to ruin this for you, cuz."

"Really? Cause that's not what I'm getting from where I'm standing." Peter grumbled, arms folding over his chest as he threw the older teen an unimpressed look.

"Believe me, I'm not. It's a good thing that you're startin' to...to..." He trailed off for a moment before lowering his head, glancing at the cigarette before placing it back in his mouth.

"It's just...you have a knack for seein' the good in people." He murmured softly. "For...for focusin' on that tiny little spark that you can somehow find in...in _everyone_ and zeroin' in on it, as if it eliminates all the bad. As if you can somehow bring out that spark by concentratin' hard enough and putting' all your effort into it." He shook his head. "You've been doin' it ever since I met you. Hell, you've been doing it with your Dad since Day 1!"

The younger boy reared back at that, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "That's not true."

"Really?!" Danny snapped, anger suddenly morphing onto his face once more as he rose to his feet, ripped the cigarette out of his mouth and glared at the teen before him. "Then tell me right now that your dad is an evil scumbag. Tell me he's the lowest of the low and that you hate his guts." He took a threatening step forward, squaring his shoulders as Peter took a reflexive step backwards. "Tell me that you wish he was dead, Peter. Huh! Go on! Tell me! Tell me you want him to suffer the same way he's made you suffer. Tell me you want to see him hang, see him fry, see him endure the same pain he's inflicted on you day after day for _years_!" He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, nearly pressing his nose against Peter's. "Tell me you want him dead! Go on, Peter! SAY IT!"

" **NO!"** The boy snarled, shoving the teen back a few steps as he shuffled backwards and wrapped his arms defensively around himself. "NO! I don't...! I...he...n-no."

Danny breathed heavily from where he stood, watching the boy before him for a moment before giving the tiniest shake of his head. "You can't, can you?" He murmured softly, Peter glaring down at the floor as he did so. "Cause even after everythin' he's done to you...after every horrible thing he's subjected you to...every ounce of torture and pain...you still _insist_ on seein' the good in him." He paused for a moment. "You still love him."

Peter traced the cracks with his eyes once more, intent on keeping his eyes away from his friend's face. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, wild and erratic despite the eerie calm he held himself in, his muscles coiled and ready to pounce at the unforeseen danger in the teen's words, the threat embedded in them. It was one thing to think such thoughts himself. It was a whole other to hear them from someone else.

"He's my dad." The same thing he'd been repeating for ten years.

Danny couldn't help but raise a brow. "Is he?"

Peter ground his teeth together and shook his head with an annoyed growl. "What does this have to do with anything?" He snapped, glaring back up at the older boy.

Said teen moved closer as he spoke. "You're blindin' yourself, Peter. You're tryin' so hard to focus on the good here, to..to ignore everythin' else and only concentrate on what you _want_ to see in people like your dad, people like Stark." He reached forward and grabbed Peter's shoulders, the boy wincing at the touch.

"Not everyone deserves that, Peter. Not everyone deserves to have you reachin' for that spark. Cause...not everyone has one." He murmured, releasing the boy as he stepped back, Peter lifting his head to stare at him. "Whether you want to admit it or not, some people...some people _have_ no good in them. Some people are just bad. You can't explain it. You can't predict it. You'll go crazy tryin' to figure out why. But...there is no why, Peter. There is no answer. No matter how hard you try..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh cigarette, extending it to the teen before him. "...you can't save everyone."

Peter stared down at the offering before tentatively grabbing it with his free hand. He could hear the words as they were being spoken, but something in him would just not allow them to sink in, would not allow them to enter. He stood there for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to find the words, only to blow a breath from his lips and glance down at the mask in his hand and then at the cigarette in the other.

The cigarette was small, only about the size of his pinkie, and it was greatly dwarfed by the mask in the other hand. And yet, despite the differences in size, the small roll seemed much heavier in his hand. He gently ran his fingertips against the paper edging, small sprinklings of black powder falling into his palm. The lenses of his mask glinted in his eyes ever so slightly, making him turn to take in the tight stitching and cleanly woven fabrics, like a comforting blanket enveloping his hand, nothing like the prickling feeling of the roll in the other palm.

He glanced between the two before slowly curling his hand into a fist, effectively crushing the cigarette into fine dust. "No...you don't know him, Danny. Mr. Stark is...he's different. He's funny and kind and smart and...he makes me feel like it's okay to be me. Like...like I don't have to be afraid anymore." He gave a small hint of a smile.

Danny didn't return in as he gave the boy a solemn look. "We should always be afraid, Peter. It's just safer that way."

The boy narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists together. "Well, maybe I don't _want_ that anymore!" God he _really_ didn't want to fight again.

Danny obviously felt the same as he threw up his hands and sighed. "Look, listen to me or don't. You're gonna do what you want. All I'm saying is...watch your back, Pete." He straightened up and looked the teen in the eyes. "And watch the company you keep."

Peter leaned back to gaze at the boy, reading his face for any signs of malice or anger. He found none.

The teen wasn't going to lie to himself. Danny wasn't what he would call a very reputable source. The teen had been back and forth on the streets for _years,_ bouncing from foster house to foster house, avoiding Social Services and getting hits where he could. ' _Opportunist_ ' simply wasn't enough to describe him. So with those standards, taking the word of a homeless teen with any sort of seriousness would seem very far-fetched to most people.

Peter knew they were friends. They'd been friends for _years,_ but...but Peter knew Danny was far from a good guy. He stole, he lied, he cheated, and for the most part, Peter let him off for it.

He knew he couldn't really judge. Life was hard for a kid on the streets and he was sure Danny just did what he needed to survive, but...but Peter knew such experiences had to have had their effects. Led to a shift in perspectives, viewpoints.

He didn't trust Tony Stark cause he wasn't too far off from being him, a miniature version with _far_ less money, at least.

Danny was first and foremost, a con artist. He knew the game, knew how to play, and he most _definitely_ knew how to spot other con artists. It's why he could tell Peter was telling the truth about his father, who was a grade-A champion at the game. And it was most likely why he was so hesitant about Tony. He recognized all the makings of a con on him.

But...that didn't mean he was right.

That didn't mean Peter had to believe him.

Still, Peter couldn't help but take in the look of slight concern marring the boy's features. The younger teen knew such a look probably wasn't a common one on Danny's face. He knew firsthand just how difficult it was to express concern for others when your own life warrants all the concern you can get. But despite that, Danny still seemed worried. He was still concerned for him, despite his best efforts to mask the feeling with snark and disinterest. Almost like someone else he knew...

So with that, Peter couldn't help but give a small scoff as a hint of a smile crossed his face. "Does that include you?"

Danny's eyes drifted over the teen's face, obviously searching for traces of resentment. Finding none, the teen returned the smile as he shrugged his shoulders. "You should always watch out for me. Never know when I'm gonna find ya." He called with a wink as he flicked the remaining bud to the ground once more

Peter smiled and shook his head. "I'm glad your back, Danny." And he was, despite the conversation which still seemed to steam in the air over their heads.

"Yeah, well...looks like I'm just in time. Seems to me like you're gonna need all the people you can get on your side." He turned and began to walk over the edge of the roof once more, eyeing the catwalk that led down to the streets below. "I'll be around."

Peter watched as the teen bent down and wrapped his hands around the rusted metal of the steps, twisting himself around to position himself to walk down. However, as he began to lower himself down, Peter couldn't help the nagging feeling itching at the base of his neck, prickling and prickling until he couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer.

"He does love me."

Danny glanced up.

"My dad. He does."

. . . .

. . . .

"That's what you should be afraid of."

* * *

 **Saturday - April 9, 2016**

 **2765 Springshore Dr - Brenner Residence**

 **04:23 p.m.**

"Jesus Christ, May. Do you even own a garbage can? Cause, they're like fifty cents at the Dollar Store. I can get you a nice pretty one with flowers on it and everything." Peter called as he glanced down at the box before him, turning a questioning gaze to the horde of shoes inside that seemed to fit in much better with the leftover tuna casserole and day-old spaghetti still in the kitchen garbage bag.

"Oh, it's not _that_ bad, you big baby."

Peter leaned down and plucked out a shoe with more holes than the moldy Swiss cheese in May's fridge, throwing the woman an unimpressed look.

She shrugged as she picked up one of the large brown boxes. "What can I say? I'm sentimental."

"I'd go ahead and leave out the _'senti',_ May."

She pursed her lips and gave the teen a light kick as she walked past with the box, Peter grinning as he watched her drop it off near the front door where all the other boxes of a similar make stood.

For the past two hours, boxes were all Peter had been able to see as the pair cleaned out May's apartment after months and months of the teen hounding her to do so. After the sixth time tripping over her knitting kit that hadn't been opened since being bought at a garage sale two years ago, Peter had finally worn the woman down. So for the past few hours, the two had been making quick work going through the ol' "Keep or Toss" routine, Peter having had to explain that there had to at least be a _few_ things in the _Toss_ pile, much to May's reluctance.

"When did I even _buy_ this?" May asked herself as she stared down at the cookbook in her hands. She shrugged her shoulders before tossing it into one of the _Keep_ boxes.

"Seriously? Are you even trying?"

"You never know when you'll need to learn how to cook."

Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes as he wrapped a few candlesticks in bubble wrap. "So how's school going?" He asked as he placed the tightly wrapped sticks into the box before him. May dropped in some linen table liners before closing the box with a small smile. "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that?"

Peter shrugged his shoulders, to which May laughed and shook her head. "It's a lot. Juggling that and the diner are a handful but...I'm managing. And you? Your big Decathlon tournament's next Saturday, right?"

The teen ducked his head away slightly as a faint blush rose to his cheeks. "Yeah. You...don't have to come to that thing if you don't want to, May. I...I know they can be kinda...boring."

"You kidding. I wouldn't miss it for the world." The woman beamed, Peter glancing up as he threw her a grateful smile. Even if his father never showed up to those things, May always had his back, always filled a chair or at least tried her hardest to.

The teen gave a slight grimace as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I kinda...might have...invited Mr. Stark too...if that's alright."

May looked surprised for a moment before her face changed into an expression Peter couldn't really read. It almost looked like a smirk but she turned her head away before he could really tell. "Really?" She asked, though the surprise in her voice somehow seemed...false.

"Yeah...it kinda just...slipped out."

"We'll have to save a seat for him then." The woman called, still not showing her face to him as she picked up another box and moved towards the front foyer again.

Peter glanced down at his shoes, the toe scuffling against the carpet rug. "I don't know. He's...he's probably not gonna show." ( _Of course he won't, you idiot._ )

The woman paused for a moment to place the box down on the ground before blowing a breath past her lips and pushing a few strands of hair out of her face. "Well we'll just have to wait and see, huh?"

The teen threw her a weird look, but shrugged his shoulders and went to go collect another box. He glanced at the _Toss_ pile, which had gotten suspiciously smaller than the last time he'd seen it, and shook his head. "How long's it been since you cleaned stuff out around here?"

The woman scrunched her face in thought. "I guess it's been a while."

Peter stared at the horde of boxes they'd filled in the past few hours and threw her a look. "You _guess?"_

She scoffed and turned away. "Aren't teenage boy's supposed to _love_ hording stuff?" May called with a wave of her hand as she piled a few old books she'd long since given up on trying to read into one of the bigger boxes.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "Aren't old ladies supposed to love tidiness?" He called with a cheeky grin, May narrowing her eyes as she tried to slap him in the shoulder with a grin, the teen ducking out of the way at the last minute. "Alright, you little punk. There's another pile of boxes in the corner. Move your little butt and bring those over. I think those are the last of the few we need to take to the storage pad."

The teen let out a small chuckle as he walked over and stooped down to pick up the box. However, as he took notice of what was inside, the teen quickly halted in his tracks and felt his mouth go dry, lips parting slightly as he felt his throat clamp shut. He could hear May shuffling around the room, but whatever she was saying quickly muted into cotton in his ears. His eyes remained glued to the contents of the box as he felt his legs lowering him down to the ground. Kneeling on the hard tile floor that desperately needed to be swept and mopped, Peter felt his hands shakily reach out into the box, fingers wrapping around the soft leather of Ben's favorite jacket.

His ears softly rang with the quiet voice of someone teaching him how to tie his shoes, someone vowing they'd be the first to teach him to drive, someone whispering kind words as he gently cleaned the scrape on his knee. Someone who wasn't there anymore; wasn't there because of him.

The room suddenly seemed too hot and too cold all at the same time as he felt chills rake his lithe body, muscles coiling slightly for a fight he could do nothing about, a fight that solely took part in his mind. A fight to keep himself together, a fight he'd been battling for two years...and one he was slowly losing.

He swallowed thickly, face contorting into an unreadable expression of restraint as his eyes remained glued to the fabric in his arms, hands seeming to vibrate with how violently they were shaking. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, the noise drowning out everything around him, even the sound of May's movements. It was fast and choking and loud. Too loud. He wanted to raise his hands to cover his ears but they wouldn't seem to obey. Instead they stayed locked onto the jacket.

"Hey, tough guy, what's the hold up over the-" May felt the words die in her throat as she caught sight of Peter sitting on his knees, dark brown jacket clutched tightly in his hands as he stared down at the worn leather.

The teen didn't hear her speak, just rubbed his fingers against the material seemingly lost in his own head. Peter barely even moved as May rested a hand on his shoulder, the kid wondering when she'd even approached. Despite the gnawing unease of having foreign hands on him, Peter couldn't really bring himself to pull away for fear that his focus might stray away from the jacket.

"I miss him too."

With her words, Peter felt himself suck in a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. It was shaky and wet and made the teen clear his throat slightly as he sniffed and ducked his head away. The dust around the room must have been more concentrated where he was, for he could feel his eyes growing red and wet.

He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it with the realization that if he spoke now, there was no telling what he'd really say and he couldn't afford that uncertainty. It was best to just wait it out till he regained some form of self control. May, however, didn't seem to pick up on his raging internal battle as she reached out for him again. "Peter, please. Just...just talk to me." She pleaded, the tones of desperation in her voice making the teen want to rip his own ribcage out.

Suddenly realizing he was in irreparable danger of imploding in on himself, the teen dropped the jacket and immediately shot up to his feet. "I should go bring some of those boxes outside. Makes it easier to transfer them to your car." He gasped out, forcing a quivering smile onto his face as he turned away and moved towards the door.

"Peter-!"

"I'll be right back." It was all he could say without wavering.

He was outside before he could even register it. The boxes that had somehow found themselves in his hands were quickly dropped to his feet as he rested the back of his head against the closed door and sucked in a shaky breath, eyes stinging. Peter glanced down at his hands, the skin suddenly feeling stretched and foreign. As if his skin didn't fit his body.

He turned towards the boxes and took a breath before hoisting them back into his arms. He pushed the jacket to the back of his mind along with anything and everything connected to it. Two years was too long of a streak to break and he wasn't about to start today. He wouldn't lose _this_ fight. He couldn't.

So with that, the teen brought the boxes to the back of May's car and dropped them on the cracked concrete beside it. Resting his hand against the rusted metal exterior, the teen ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he glanced back over towards the front door of the house. He was glad the door was closed, shielding his eyes from whatever look of anguish May was most likely wearing on her face. _(Can't bear to see what you're doing to her, huh?)_

The guilt spread like a wildfire, but Peter didn't really have the energy to acknowledge the burning as he made his way back over towards the stairs. ( _Just push that to the back of your mind too, you coward)_

Praying that perhaps May had moved off to another room, Peter stilled another deep breath and readjusted the smile on his face, hoping it was realistic enough to pass as he opened the door. "How long have you had that car outs-" He started, only to grunt in mild surprise as something was suddenly shoved against his chest.

The teen blinked and glanced down, hands instantly catching the stacks upon stacks of CDs now precariously balanced in his palms, eyes warily crawling up to meet May's. Peter couldn't help but shake his head in compete surprise as he caught sight of the smile on May's face as she stared at the CDs. "Music!" She cried with seemingly too much enthusiasm to be a hundred percent real.

"What...?" Peter asked hesitantly, afraid that if he cracked her facade in anyway, it would come tumbling down.

May gave a small shake of her head as she chuckled. "Sorry. I just mean...you said Mr. Stark wanted to know what kind of music you like to listen to. And I have basically every CD Ben ever collected just sitting in my closet taking up valuable shoe space-"

"Please no more shoes, May."

She gave him a mock pout. "Whatever. Anyway, I figured now was as good a time as any for them to start getting some use." She faltered slightly as she turned away and tilted her head. "That is, if you want them of course. I mean, you don't have to take them if you don't-"

"NO!" Peter shouted, reeling back slightly as he took note of just how loud he'd been. "I mean...I'd love to take these. I'll show them to Mr. Stark."

"Yeah?" The woman asked with a small nervous smile.

Peter blinked before returning one of his own, bumping the woman with his shoulder seeing as how his hands were full. "Yeah. Thanks, May. I...I really love these."

Her smile grew at that, the woman patting him on the head as she turned away once more, kneeling down over a couple more boxes. Peter turned to the couch next to him and dropped the load onto the cushions, taking note of just how many CDs there actually were. And considering CDs weren't even _used_ all that much anymore, there were quite a few.

"You must have like...every CD ever _made_ here."

"What can I say? Ben was pretty sentimental, too. And I think we can keep the ' _senti'_ in that." She called with a smirk.

Peter couldn't help but give a small chuckle at that as he rummaged through the pile, glancing at covers and song lists. "Yeah. You do have enough _'mental'_ for a small group." He laughed, only to pause as he noticed the woman approaching once more. "If it's more CDs, then I think you can keep them. I have plenty here." He said as he turned around, expecting to find more CDs in the woman's arms.

He faltered slightly as he took in the sight of the jacket once more, now resting gently in the woman's arms instead of his own. He swallowed and felt his chest tighten ever so slightly, but was able to keep a level stare this time. Apparently the same went for May as she stared him in the eyes, a small smile on her face. "This was his favorite jacket, you know."

He knew. "Yeah...I know."

The woman stared down at it for a moment, seemingly lost in thought for a second as she stroked her hand over the worn leather. Peter blinked in silence as he wondered whether or not the woman was waiting for him to say anything. However, May quickly lifted her head to look at him once more. "You should have it."

The teen stole a small breath, opening his mouth before closing it again after realizing he didn't know how to respond to that. He glanced down at the jacket before his face scrunched ever so slightly. "...I can't." It was barely more than a whisper. Though apparently, it was loud enough for May to hear and disagree with as she clicked her tongue. "It's getting no use just sitting in the bottom of a box. You know he'd hate to see it discarded like that and I can't just...throw it away." She murmured, fingers rubbing delicately across the surface. She sniffed softly before her smile reappeared, eyes slightly misty as she pushed it into Peter's hands

"He'd want you to have it, honey."

She let go of the jacket before Peter could refuse her again, the teen stuck with the cloth in his hands as he stared down at it. He knew he should give it back to her again, say it didn't belong to him because it didn't. He knew who it belonged to and so did she. And...Peter wasn't him. Not by a long shot.

Still, with a small glance up, Peter could see the look on May's face, the silent plead for him to take the jacket, to accept her offer. To do this one small thing for her. He turned away and stared down at the jacket once more before a hint of a smile spread onto his face. "Isn't this the one he spilled coffee on?"

May shook her head with a chuckle. "Nah. That was another one."

"I'm sure you still have it somewhere in this mess." The teen murmured with a smirk, May pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek as she threw him a dirty look before throwing her hand over her shoulder as she turned away. "Whatever. This place is basically like a thrift store. I have one of everything in here. I'm pretty sure I could score my hands on some crown jewels if I just look hard enough in the back of my closet." She called as she walked into the kitchen, her laugh mirroring Peter's.

The teen moved to sit on the couch, a small sigh escaping his lips as he realized it was probably the first time he'd sat down in the last two hours. Pulling one of the empty boxes closer to him with the toe of his shoe, Peter opened the flaps and grabbed a handful of the CDs, stacking them inside neatly and orderly until they were all situated inside.

In the corner of his eye, he could make out May grabbing a glass of water as she reached for the newspaper she hadn't had the time to look at during their little impromptu spring cleaning session. However, his focus quickly returned to the jacket sitting next to him. He hesitated for a moment before reaching over and pulling it into his lap. Running his hands over the leather, Peter could feel each and every imperfection in the stitching where Ben had had to make numerous repairs. Still, in the back of his mind Peter could remember a stubborn voice refusing to buy a new jacket, saying this one was special.

Peter let a smile stretch across his face as he neatly folded the jacket up and placed it on top of the box of CDs.

"Uh, Peter...?"

The teen looked up at his name, watching as May walked over, newspaper in hand. He opened his mouth to ask what was up, only to pause as he caught sight of the look on May's face. Instantly feeling a small pit opening up in his stomach, the teen narrowed his eyes and rose up to his feet. "What's wrong?" He asked, fearing the answer as May got closer.

"Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the front page today?"

"No...why?"

The woman threw him a concerned look before flipping the newspaper around so that the front page faced him. It was easy to pinpoint the exact moment when the image clicked in the teen's brain, for it perfectly coincided with the spreading look of absolute shock washing over the teen's face like a tidal wave.

"Shit..."

* * *

 **Saturday - April 9, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Main Offices**

 **05:08 p.m.**

 ** _TONY STARK'S NEW MYSTERY KID_**

 ** _Budding intern, secret love child, or shiny new toy?_**

Tony stared down at the paper in his hands for a moment before roughly throwing it down onto the desk and glaring back up. "Okay, so did they just decide to have a competition down at the post to see who could come up with the most horrific title? Cause hands down, they're pulling out all the stops on this one."

Rhodey shook his head with a scoff from where he stood near the corner of the office. "Yeah, you got that right. Similar stories are popping up on almost every newspaper out there. New York Times, Washington Post, even the Daily Bugle. And that's just print. We haven't even gotten to the online hits this is getting." He called with a shake of his head.

"No. No! What I want to know is what sicko decided the headlines for this? I mean, that is a fourteen-year-old kid on the front page of your newspaper!"

Both men raised their heads as Pepper walked into the office, hand pressed against the earpiece she was currently yelling into. Judging from her tone of voice and the pinched look of barely-restrained frustration, the conversation was not a pleasant one. "Yeah, no I got that. No, it's just- I'm saying..." Her voice suddenly cut off as she blinked in shock and moved her hand away from the earpiece.

With a loud groan, she pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose as she moved to sit on the corner of Tony's desk. "That's the _third_ newspaper that's hung up on me in the last twenty minutes." She muttered.

Rhodey snorted and turned a disgusted look upon the others. "Figures. They're trying to make as much headway with this as possible which means they're gonna avoid you like the plague. At least until the media storm begins to settle."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "If they have the balls to paste stuff like that and spew it around the city, then they should have the balls to answer for it."

"Yeah, well...last I checked, _'accountable for their actions'_ isn't usually very high-listed on journalist resumes." Tony scoffed, only for Rhodey to lift a brow at him.

"Glass houses, Tones."

"...shut up."

The man lowered his head to glare back down at the paper before him. The image above the words was that of Tony and Peter from a few days before, sitting on the curb outside Delmar's. The picture obviously must have been taken before the two became aware of the media presence because their faces were lax and natural, identical grins on both of their features.

When Pepper had walked into his office early that morning with a mixed look of anger and worry, Tony had quickly realized that his sub-par morning was about to take a dive. Of course, his suspicions had been confirmed and the woman had shown him the article that damn near made him spit out the coffee he'd been sipping.

When the cameras and reporters had first found them on Thursday, Tony had known it would only be a matter of time before papers began to get published about the little encounter. The man just hadn't expected them to be so...well, like _reporters._ Vulgar and gross with a dash of conspiracy.

"What kind of damage are we looking at here?" Tony asked with a sigh.

Pepper moved off of the desk and turned to grab at some of the papers that currently rested on the desk. "Right now, it shouldn't be too bad considering they're basically working with nothing. All they have is his face."

With that, Tony spun around in his seat so that he was now facing the window. The sun still hung in the air above the skyline, but it was slowly making its way down, casting the sky around it in a nice golden hue that didn't really reflect the internal screaming that currently echoed off of Tony's rib cage as he continued to mull over the same situation he'd been thinking about for the past two hours.

The man let out a tired sigh and rubbed his face. Rhodey seemed to take notice of the man's slumped form as he walked over and placed a hand on the billionaire's shoulder. "Why don't I call up some food for us? If we go any further on an empty stomach, we're gonna start getting snippy."

"Start?" Tony quipped back, only for his friend to roll his eyes.

"So what's it gonna be?"

"Anything swimming in grease."

The colonel nodded his head. "Pizza it is, then. Be right back." He murmured before pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking out of the room.

Twisting his chair back around, Tony let out a muffled groan as he rested his elbows on the desk before him and placed his forehead down on the cool mahogany surface. Media storms were _never_ fun to deal with. Never had been, no matter how used to them he was. He'd had his fair share considering his first exposure had been when he was four and the experiences ranged from boring interviews to god-awful _'night_ _after_ ' photos that still haunted him to this very day in a worst-of list that seemed never-ending.

Still, thinly-veiled hints of pedophilia were quickly making their way to the top of that list.

The tell-tale clack of Pepper's heels against the tile floors reached his ears before he felt her lay a gently hand over the top of his head. If _he_ was feeling the effects of this, the man could only wince at how Peter would react when he finally saw it. The thought made a pit open up in his stomach that seemed to threaten his very intestines. Tony straightened up as he met Pepper's gaze.

"What are the chances he hasn't seen it yet?"

Pepper thought about it for a moment before she opened her mouth, only for the two to turn towards the door as they heard the sound of shoes scuffing against the floor getting closer and closer. Before they could question what the noise was, Peter was rounding the corner and standing in the doorway, face red and flushed as he panted heavily, hair slick against his forehead.

"Survey says...not great."

From behind the teen, Happy came into view as well, leaning up against the door frame as he wheezed, seemingly having run behind the kid the entire time. "Sorry...I was gonna call...tell you." He puffed. "Kid's fast."

"Peter?" Tony said the name with a hint of confusion. It was Saturday. Kid wasn't scheduled to come back in till Monday.

Suddenly realizing what their office currently looked like, the billionaire quickly pushed all the articles currently strewn atop his desk into the drawers and out of sight. "Yeah, hi." The teen gasped out, venturing farther into the office as he greedily gulped in more mouthfuls of air.

"Not that I'm not _always_ happy to see my pasty-faced hormonal charges on unscheduled days of the week but what are you doing here and - did you _run_ here?"

The teen didn't respond, only lifted a finger and waved it in a sort of gesturing motion before giving up on trying to convey whatever he was and simply giving a shaky thumbs up. He rested his hands on his knees as he gave the ' _one minute_ ' signal before inhaling a large breath of air and straightening back up.

"Right, so sorry for barging in like this. I know you probably weren't expecting to see me here today and if I'm really being honest I wasn't expecting to be here either and considering the circumstances I kinda wish I _wasn't_ here but I am which kinda sucks cause I was actually helping out May today and - do you know how much of a hoarder she is? Right, of course you don't. Why would you know that? That's weird. But anyway I'm kinda losing where I'm going with this and-

"Kid, kid." Tony called, raising his hands to get the teen to shut up. Peter did with a snap of his jaw. "Can we just skip to the important part?"

"Right, right." Peter reached up to rub his neck. "So, I know you said I shouldn't be concerned about anything back when we were at Delmar's but..." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, one Tony didn't have to really look at to know what it was. "...I have some concerns anyway."

Tony glanced over at Pepper and noticed the concerned look she was now giving him. Turning back towards Peter, the billionaire stood up and threw him a smile. "Yeah, we were just talking about that now, right Pep?"

"Uh-"

"Yeah, so we were talking and Pepper was just telling me that she see's stuff like this all the time, kid. _All_ the time. It's nothing to worry about. Just another run-of-the-mill scoop here, huh Pep?"

"I-"

"It's just a little thing, kid. Nothing to get all concerned over and-"

"Mr. Stark?" The kid called, effectively cutting the man off as he threw him an exasperated look. "I _know_ that's not true. I mean, just look at this place." He murmured with an uneasy look, glancing around at the papers still lying on the floor by his feet. "Just give it to me straight here."

 _Not a good idea._ "Kid I don't know if that's a good idea."

Peter shook his head. "Look, I don't wanna be sidewinded by this thing, alright? I don't wanna be in Home Ec on Monday and pull out my phone to see I'm the leading story on Good Morning America or something!" The teen sighed and ran a hand through his hair before glancing up at the man before him. "Just...just tell me the truth. Tell me what's going on."

Tony stared down at the teen, the swirling unease in his stomach not settling as he caught the pleading look on Peter's face. Still, as he looked over towards Pepper and saw her shrugging her shoulders at him, the billionaire couldn't help the sigh that bubbled past his lips once more. Lying to the kid was probably gonna cause more problems than just telling him the truth right now, he had to admit, no matter how uncomfortable it was going to make them.

He turned back towards Peter, only to pause as he caught sight of Rhodey in the background, phone pressed up to his ear as the colonel spoke to whoever was on the other end of the call, most presumably the closest pizzeria to them.

The billionaire felt a smirk fall onto his face. "You hungry, kid?"

"Always. Why?"

 **. . . . .**

"What kind of state doesn't have legal laws prohibiting the release of information on a minor? It's the 21st century here! I thought kids had rights nowadays!"

Tony threw the kid a look of resigned frustration as he watched Peter pace back and forth in front of the couch he currently sat on. "New York, apparently. Trust us, that was the first thing we looked into."

Tony, Peter, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy all currently resided in the penthouse above the office they'd previously established. Boxes upon boxes of pizza currently sat opened on the table before them, different slices of different pizzas all held in their respective hands. Tony was grateful he'd asked Rhodey to order two extra pizzas for Peter considering the teen ate almost as much food for three separate people.

For the past hour, they'd been going over the details of the story as well as whatever they were gonna do to counter it.

Tony could honestly say he didn't want Peter to be a part of this conversation at _all._ He didn't want the kid involved in this matter in the first place so having to share the gorey details of their grizzly situation wasn't exactly primo.

But the billionaire also knew it wouldn't sit too well with the kid if they hid anything from him, which was what led to them all sitting around the living room horking down pizzas while spitballing the worst of their situation.

"Eventually people are gonna recognize you as the same kid from all those pictures with Richard Parker." Rhodey pointed out as he gestured with the pizza slice in his hand.

Happy furrowed his brow from his seat across from them. "And they'll probably have some questions as to why Parker's son is hanging around the top name for his rival's company."

"Right..." Peter murmured, glancing down at the slice in his hand. He stuffed the rest in his mouth before glancing over towards Tony. "So how do we counter _that?"_

Tony let out a groan as he sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, letting his hands hang down. " _We_...well actually _I_ am gonna have to make sure our cover is flawless here, just in case people start to sniff around and get suspicious. So that means verifying all of your fake files, kid and getting started on the works for the new internship program."

Pepper furrowed her brow. "What _'new internship program'_?"

"The one I'm gonna make."

All three adults turned to look at each other before turning towards the billionaire as if he'd just announced he was gonna jump from the top of the tower in nothing but Iron Man pajamas. Peter's head swiveled back and forth between the group and Tony, unsure as to what they were all confused about.

"Tony, are you serious?"

"You gotta be joking."

The man stared back at them as he raised his hands. "What? Why is that so hard to believe?"

Pepper threw him a deadpanned look as she pursed her lips. "Cause you're _you_. The same guy who thinks - and _I_ quote - _kids are useless snot-nosed little gremlins wadding around in their own vomit and bad ideas until they finally hit a growth spurt and become adults that can do something useful with their previously pointless lives'._ "

Everyone in the room grew silent at that. Peter turned to look at the billionaire, wide eyes blinking back at him. Tony stared at him before shaking his head. "I didn't say that."

"You always say that."

"I - they're paraphrasing...I didn't say _exactly_ that." He waved his hands in the air, seemingly dispelling their words from the atmosphere as the others smirked behind their hands and Peter continued to stand there confused. "Anyway, I'm opening it up to _college_ students, alright? Jeez, you really think I'm gonna let some beady-eyed, sweat driven little fourteen-year-old brats who can't even operate their own bodies let alone expensive equipment in here ?"

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

"Ahem..."

"Damn, I keep forgetting you're here. Well, you're the exception anyway, kid so whatever!"

The other three adults didn't even bother in trying to hide their snickers this time, only Peter joined them with a toothy grin as he glanced down at the ground before turning towards the billionaire. "Well thanks. And if it means anything, I do like to think I have pretty fine motor skills. Well enough to crime fight, at least."

"Yeah, yeah..." Tony muttered with a pout before throwing a garlic knot at the kid's head. The kid caught it, obviously, popping it into his mouth afterwards as Tony turned to face the others once again. "Look, it's not ideal. If I could help it, I'd keep any and all people under the age of thirty out of my tower - don't even _start_ with me again, Parker - but this is what we're dealing with."

The teen stared down at his hands, fingers flexing slightly, almost as if they were sore. He felt Mr. Stark turn to look at him, but the man didn't push him to speak as the teen merely traced the lines in his palm. After a moment, he finally spoke.

"Look, my dad...my dad is all about image, okay." He murmured. "That's why he's always making me go to those stupid gala things or donating to whatever charity of the week he thinks will garner up more support in the public eye." He said with a sigh, resting his cheek against a propped-up fist. "It's just...PR is _gold_ to him. And if this gets worse...I don't know how he'll react, you know?"

He lifted his head to look at the adults around him, only to find they were staring at each other sharing mixed looks of concern, anger or frustration. Tony's fingers were curled into a fist that Peter knew had something to do with the words he's just spoken. Immediately feeling the same bout of indignant fire he'd felt with Danny, Peter glared down at the floor before him. "Don't take that the wrong way, alright? It's perfectly reasonable for any dad to get concerned when their son is making font page headlines with - let's face it - his top competitor." He growled out.

He could feel Tony turn to look at him, the teen inwardly cringing as he wondered maybe he'd been rude again, only for the man to speak before he could think about apologizing. "No, no. I understand, Pete. I got you."

The teen lifted his head to look at him for a moment before ducking away and giving a small nod, shutting his mouth and locking his jaw. Tony inwardly cursed, but said nothing about it. No point in making it any worse.

"Okay, so we got what we're gonna do once this gets bad, but what are we gonna do about it right _now?_ " Happy asked, crumpling up the napkin in his hands before tossing it into his empty plate, thankfully shifting the topic once more.

Rhodey leaned back in his chair, watching as Peter continued to pace back and forth in front of them. Nobody told him to stop. If anything, it was better than watching the nervous energy spread to his face. "So far, it seems to be contained mainly to the papers. I haven't gotten word of any news channels running with it."

Pepper pursed her lips slightly. "Probably waiting for more info to leak through."

"Yeah, hopefully bad info on me. Lately, I seem to be their favorite billionaire-flavored chew toy." Tony muttered from his seat as he angrily ripped another slice away from the box.

"So, they're not working with a lot right now, right?" Peter asked, the others nodding. "Then that means they'll probably be even more eager to find more pictures."

"Exactly." Rhodey said from his seat. "Which is _exactly_ why the two of you need to lay low for a while." At Peter's look of mild concern, the man continued. "Okay, not really you, Pete. Just...right now they're starved for more information, so they're gonna be on the lookout for the two of you together, okay? So, until this dies down a little more, I suggest the two of you avoid going out in public spaces for a little while. Together, at least."

Tony nodded along as his friend spoke, shrugging his shoulders as the man finished. "Seems easy enough. Though I must admit, your little plan to get me out of the tower more is gonna take a little bit of a dive I'm afraid." He said with a mock pout, Pepper rolling her eyes while Rhodey flicked him off.

The billionaire chuckled and turned his head to gauge Peter's reaction, only to pause as he noticed the kid rubbing his arm, glancing down at the ground as a look of resigned disappointment made its way onto his face. Tony cocked a head in mild confusion, for the teen had been taking everything else they'd been saying fairly well. Why _now_ was he looking so...upset?

Nevertheless, the man stood up and made his way over to the teen, placing his hands on the kid's shoulders. Peter jumped slightly at the touch but lifted his head as Tony stared down at him. "Hey, it's gonna be fine, kid." He said with a small smile, assuming the teen was just upset about the whole ordeal. "We've got your back on this, alright?"

Peter stared up at the man before glancing over towards the others, who were all making their way over as well. "I know it's all a bit overwhelming, Peter." Pepper said with a sad smile. "But we've been dealing with stuff like this for a _long_ time now. And our PR team's the best money can buy."

"I'll be there to drive you to the Tower, alright kid? If anyone ever gives you trouble, I'll be right there waiting for you." Happy said with his usual frown in place. Though Tony had known the man long enough to notice that his frown held small traces of a smile at the corners of his lips, his eyes not quite so hard as usual.

Rhodey patted the teen on the back. "It's gonna be fine, Peter. All we gotta do is get through to Stage 5 and we're in the clear."

At that, Peter pulled away to stare at the man in confusion, tilting his head slightly. "Stage 5?" He asked before turning to face all of them. "What's Stage 5?"

"Stage 5's what we're shooting for here, kid." Tony said with a small sigh. "The little light at the end of the tunnel so to speak."

Obviously, the explanation didn't do much to help Peter, for the kid continued to scrunch his nose and narrow his eyes in thought. "I don't get it. There's stages? Are they like steps or something?"

"Kinda?" Tony said with a shrug of his shoulders. "We've dealt with so many media storms in our lifetime that we started to see a repeating pattern with all of the ordeals we encountered. After a while, we were able to organize them all into stages of sorts."

Peter seemed to perk slightly at that. "Oh, so...like a lifespan?"

Tony nodded his head. "Yeah. Stage 1's what we're dealing with now. That initial little drip of information that leaks to the masses. Usually the info itself is small but it's enough for them to get the scent of blood in the water. This is the step with that first bout of excited drabble."

"Stage 2 is the initial aftermath." Pepper chimed in as she moved back over to the table and began to pick up the empty pizza boxes. "After the information begins to taper off, the masses are left starving with that one tiny bit of news they _did_ get, the excitement bubbling down to nothing as the story is seemingly lost in the sea of Hollywood bubblegum that usually overrides it." She passed some of the boxes to the boys and motioned for them to follow her over to the kitchen

"Stage 3 is the release of more info." Happy said as he dropped the boxes onto the counter, doing the same with the boxes Peter handed to him. "In our case, it'll be when people find out you're Richard Parker's kid. It mainly just covers the extra information that revitalizes the original story."

Rhodey wiped a napkin over his grease-covered fingers. "Stage 4 follows and is undoubtedly the worst. It's the tsunami of mass hysteria that comes after the story drops. People tweet, news stations gossip, conspiracy sites open up. Basically all the shit you could associate with a media storm can be summed up in Stage 4."

Peter hopped up onto the bar, watching the others talk with a look of slight concern. He blew out a sigh and rested his cheek against his fist. "Great. So I have _that_ to look forward to."

"Well, hold on there." Tony called as he leaned up against the bar beside the kid. "That brings us to Stage 5, the heaven send. That's the _final_ aftermath. When the hype dies down and everything starts to go back to normal. People get bored and move on to someone else to hound. Stage 5 ends it."

Peter turned to look at him before letting out a small chuckle. "Well then Stage 5 can't come soon enough." Tony smirked and lightly tapped the teen in the shoulder with his fist.

It didn't take them long to finish cleaning up the rest of dinner, despite the number of pizza boxes they'd actually managed to go through. Tony stood over by the sink, depositing the last of the dishes in before mentally reminding himself to set the dishwasher later that night. Behind him, Peter spoke with Rhodey and Happy. Judging from the occasional deep chuckles and higher-pitched giggles, the trio were entertaining themselves fairly well.

The billionaire was so preoccupied with the dishes before him that he barely even noticed when Pepper walked over and rested a hand on his shoulder. The man turned to look at her as she spoke. "Does Peter need to be home soon?" She asked in a hushed tone, even though the two knew it was basically pointless. If he wanted to, Peter could probably hear them even if they went into a different room.

However, stealing a glance over towards the kid, Tony noticed he didn't look up from where he was laughing as Rhodey showed him pictures from his phone. Tony cringed slightly, realizing there had to be quite a number of incriminating photos of himself on his friend's phone. Nevertheless, he leaned closer to the woman before him and shook his head. "Said his dad was working late tonight."

The woman gave a nod of her own before turning to watch the three others from where they sat at the bar. It was hard to really get a read on the woman's face, but the small smile that spread onto her lips was indicator enough. For a moment, the two said nothing, simply content with watching silently as a calming atmosphere settled over the room in a way that hadn't been present for some time now.

She watched for a moment longer before leaning closer to the man next to her. "You're doing a good job, Tony."

He said nothing for a moment, watching Peter smile as he giggled at something Rhodey said, Happy grumbling off to the side that made it seem like the joke was at his expense.

Tony had to admit, Peter _was_ doing better. The teen hadn't stuttered _once_ in the time they'd been together, not to mention he also seemed much more relaxed talking to them as a group rather than just individually as they'd had to do in the first few weeks of meeting him. Whatever Tony was doing, as horrible as he _felt_ he was at this, it seemed to be doing... _something_.

The billionaire let out a small chuckle of his own. "Yeah, well...kid does most of the work for me, really." He murmured, feeling a small weight on his chest lift away as the teen threw his head back in laughter when Happy reached over to smack the colonel in the arm at whatever they'd said to each other.

Still, it was hard to ignore the looming obstacles gathering just outside the comfort of the Tower, a fact that made itself known on the frown that quickly spread onto the man's face. "We're gonna have hell to deal with soon enough, Pep." He murmured softly.

The woman said nothing at that, turning to glance back at the others before smiling once more. Tony blinked in surprise as he watched the woman hold up a couple of glasses of champagne. "Well then, let's make the most of this then, shall we?"

Tony stared at her for a moment before allowing the smile to return to his face, if only for a little while. He could enjoy it while it lasted. Holding up a ' _one minute_ ' sign, the man dug around in the fridge for a moment before pulling out a juice box, Pepper rolling her eyes as she silently mouthed ' _oh my god_ ' to him. He returned it with a cheeky grin before they made their way over to the others.

The other two guys stared at the drinks before growing smiles of their own, looks that grew even larger as Tony handed Peter the juice box. The teen stared down at it with a cocked brow and a deadpanned look before snatching it out of the billionaire's hands. "I hate that I love this kind." He muttered, the others cracking even wider grins as he removed the little plastic straw.

Nevertheless, Peter held out his little juice box - complete with bendy straw - as the others held out their glasses. Despite the less than ideal circumstances that had brought them where they were, they couldn't hold back the smiles that spread onto their faces, not even Happy, who despite his best efforts, had a small upturn to the corners of his mouth.

Tony glanced around at all the people before him. People who, to anybody else, should be nothing more than work companions. A military and government liaison. His company CEO. A chauffeur, bodyguard and security manager wrapped in one. And finally, a high-school intern that moonlighted as a teenage superhero. It was almost like a demented version of the Breakfast Club, sans the 80s clothes and questionable haircuts.

Still, the man could honestly say that each and every person standing before him meant something more. He couldn't exactly put it into words, per say. If anything it was more of a feeling. Something deep in his gut that told him everything he needed was right there in front of him.

It was a gut feeling that had hidden itself away the second he'd felt a shield break his chest.

But in that moment, Tony didn't think about the media. He didn't think about Ross. Didn't think about the Accords, or the Avengers, or Steve. All he could think about was the glass in his hands and the smile on Peter's face.

"To Stage 5."

"TO STAGE 5!"

* * *

 **Sunday - April 10, 2016**

 **Queens, NY - East Flushing**

 **01:13 a.m.**

"I'm gonna tear you to pieces, you little freak!"

"What? For stopping your little shopping spree? You know you're a heavy spender, girl! If anything, I just spared you from some serious shopper's regret later on!"

Spidey couldn't really say anymore before the blast was slamming into his chest, sending him careening into the alleyway wall behind him. He fell to the ground and couldn't suppress a groan as he placed a hand to his head.

Okay, so maybe he _did_ talk a bit too much during these battles.

He didn't have anymore time to contemplate such a thing as a fist came swinging for his face. Ducking out of reach and flipping backwards right as the reinforced fist slammed into the concrete wall where his head had been, the hero leapt away and clung to the wall above the two thugs.

They were both dressed similarly, with dark clothes that seemed a bit scraggly and ragged. One of them was a woman who had a fairly large stature with defined muscles and a strong chin despite her young features. The other was a much skinnier man.

However, neither of the two seemed like anything impressive. They just seemed like your average run-of-the-mill thugs looking for a score.

Albeit, they did seem...pretty _young._

Or at least, they _would_ have if it weren't for the alien blaster in the skinny man's hands and the high-powered metallic gloves reinforcing the larger girl's arms and hands, making her punches all the more lethal.

The large metal crates presumably filled with stolen tech from the manufacturing building they were fighting next to sat discarded near the back walls, seemingly forgotten about as the thugs faced off against the masked arachnid.

Peter leapt off the wall right as the skinny man fired off a blast from the smoking gun, skidding along the ground as he slid under the man's legs and kicked them out from underneath him, flipping backwards as the man's partner punched the air where he'd been seconds earlier. Catching one of the nearby trash cans in his webs, Spider-Man swung it around before hurtling it towards the gloved woman.

She slammed her fist into the oncoming projectile, the can exploding into bits of flaming metal and garbage as the gloves hissed and the metallic plates shifted before falling still once more.

Peter mentally cursed the gloves, summing them up to be one of Curt's new inventions before flipping away from another punch, only to land right in the path of the gun's new blast.

He shouted in pain as the blast him him in the shoulder, sending him skidding backwards. His feet slid against the concrete before he gained traction once more, leaning down to press a hand to the cold floor as he hissed in pain and fought to catch his breath, only to dodge to the side as the woman slammed her fist into the concrete, leaving cracks and dents in the stained ground.

He slid against the ground once more and whipped back around, body poised and low to the ground as he watched the woman stand back up, small pieces of gravel falling away from her hand. "We're just trying to do a job." She finally spoke, thin strands of brunette hair falling down around her face as she stared back at him.

Peter felt the sensors on his mask's lenses shrink and narrow. "So am I."

She narrowed her own eyes at the hero before gritting her teeth and charging.

Having been ready for her attack, Peter flipped over onto his back, performing a backwards hand stand before shooting his legs out where they connected hard with the girl's chest, driving her backwards.

She quickly recovered, twisting around with a reared back fist, only for Spidey to spring up and fire a barrage of quick-fire webs at her, the substance wrapping around her midsection, trapping her arms to her sides.

Skidding to a halt, the woman glared down at her trapped form before letting out a loud grunt of effort, the metallic bindings on her arms glowing slightly as the plates shifted once more and she snapped her arms up, the webbing ripping right along with it.

"Shit..." The teen muttered underneath his breath, only to yelp as another bright blast shot right over his head. Ducking down to the ground, he decided to switch tactics.

Focusing on the gauntlets in the larger woman's hands, he dodged another blast from the gun and leapt up onto the wall, springing off of it and towards the girl.

"You know what? This is getting too graphic for you. I don't want you watching this." Firing a glob of webbing towards her eyes, the thug grunted as it made contact, effectively blinding her.

However, before Peter could get a good shot at her gauntlets, the woman swung around wildly, causing him to leap backwards right as another blast shot forward, hitting the teen in the side and sending him hurtling backwards.

Hitting the stone floor hard, the hero grunted and quickly rose back up to his feet before he could be blindsided once more. The familiar burn of the weapon's blast could be felt through the suit as his skin pulled taut once more. He choked back the whimper of pain and instead blew a harsh breath past his lips.

The woman reached up with a snarl and ripped the webbing in her eyes away from her face. Whipping around, her gaze landed on the hero once more, but not before he was already making his way towards her.

With that, Peter leapt up above the woman's head and landed on her shoulders, webbing up her legs and yanking hard, the thug letting a shout fall from her mouth as she slammed into the ground face-first.

Her skinnier partner seemed to panic slightly as he saw his partner go down, especially when Spidey started to web up the large woman's arms to her sides and render the gloves useless as they were covered in the goo-like substance.

Nevertheless, he charged up the gun again and fired a huge green blast towards them.

"Whoa!" Peter shouted as he leapt out of the way right as the blast tore a huge hole in the wall behind him, bricks and stones clattering to the ground. Rearing back up, Spidey stared down the man as his hands shook. "Watch where you're pointing that thing, man! You're gonna shoot your eye out!"

The man chose to ignore his comments as he continued to fire blast after blast while Peter ducked and dodges, bright green lights lighting up the alley like a demented Christmas lights show.

Faintly picking up the soft sound of police sirens in the distance, Spidey realized he'd have to wrap this up quickly if he didn't want the cops to interrupt them, increasing the likelihood that someone would get hurt.

Twirling right by another blast, the teen shot a glob of webbing at the man's feet. Off balance, the thug fell onto his backside, eyes staring fearfully at the vigilante as he approached. Before he could think better of it, the man's shaking hands reached towards the dial on the side of the blaster, praying there was some sort of setting that would help him.

"WAIT!" Spider-man shouted as the blaster began to hum loudly, the glow emanating from inside beginning to fizzle and grow brighter with each second. The man obviously had no idea what to do as he whimpered and stared at the gun in his hands, seemingly frozen.

Rushing forward, Peter ripped the gun out of the man's hands and wrapped it as thickly as possible in webbing before whipping it as far as he could up into the air. A second of silence passed before the gun exploded in a hail of green light and burnt webbing.

The two remaining fighters ducked down as the blast blew right above their heads, warily glancing back up as they took in the sight of smoke billowing around them

Peter and the trapped thug stared at the sky for a moment before the former turned to the latter. "You know, that would have been _great_ to Instagram. Why don't I ever have my phone when I need it? That ever happen to you? Frikkin sucks."

 **. . . . .**

The sirens he'd heard before in the midst of the fight were steadily growing louder as Peter moved the webbed up thugs over to the back wall of the alleyway, lifting the heavy metal crates of stolen goods over his shoulder like they were nothing.

Placing the boxes down next to the thugs with a loud _thud_ that reverberated through the ground and made his toes twitch in the suit, he webbed up the crates and positioned them next to the two criminals like a nicely wrapped present for the officers.

"And... _there!_ Don't you two just look _lovely_? Now play nice for your ol- pal Spidey, huh?"

"Come on, man! Just let us go! We won't tell nobody!"

The teen turned to face them with a shrug of his shoulders and a playful smirk spreading across his face underneath the mask. It was always fun pleading with criminals after the fact, seeing just what they were willing to do in order to gain their freedom.

One guy offered to buy him dinner. The guy only pick-pocketed some guy's watch which Peter returned, so he settled for a milkshake and a slap on the wrist.

"See, now if I did that for you, I'd have to do it for everybody and that just doesn't seem very productive for a crime-fighting vigilante, now does it?" He chuckled before turning away. "No, I think I'll let you try that one out on the cops. Who knows? Maybe they'll have a different answer if you're nice enough."

The woman glared down at the ground and locked her jaw, seemingly realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere with the teen. Her partner, however, had a much different reaction.

"They're gonna kill us!"

Peter paused at that, glancing unimpressed at the thugs. "Oh, please. I think you're being a bit dramatic. Just don't mention anything about donuts to them and you'll be fine. Seriously, apparently they hate that. Guess they're more scones people."

The man shook his head, glaring at the hero with wide fearful eyes as the teen turned and began to walk away. "Not the cops, you idiot! Kingsman!"

Peter froze in his tracks, a deep stone dropping in the pit of his stomach, nearly making his body drop at the sheer weight of it as it plunked down into his gut like a boulder smashing into steady waters below.

The teen felt a shaky breath leave his lips as he slowly turned to stare back at the two thugs, who were now throwing him looks of desperation.

Despite the fact that he'd known these guys had been working for his father the second he'd seen the weapons they'd been using and the products they'd tried to steal, he still couldn't help the gut feeling that dropped at the borderline terror edging the man's voice.

He knew that fear. He'd grown up with that fear.

 _(Forget about them.)_

 _(They brought this on themselves.)_

 _(They deserve it.)_

He turned back around and didn't bother in facing them as he continued to walk towards the end of the alleyway. The lights above his head seemed to flicker with each step he took, seemingly leaving the alleyway darker and darker the father he went, like shadows stretching from his retreating form, reaching out dark icy claws towards the two people he'd left.

His body poised to spring up and web away, but for some reason...his hand just wouldn't obey.

"We failed him. He won't let us go."

 _(Just jump. Just jump and swing away.)_

"Once the cops get us, he'll send people after us, that is if the cops that get us aren't already in on it too. We'll be dead within the week!"

 _(So what? So what if you know that's true? Doesn't matter!)_

"That's what happened to everyone else!"

 _(Fucking LEAVE!)_

"Please...I-I don't wanna die."

. . . .

. . . .

He pushed back the shrill shrieking of the voice in the back of his mind and turned to face the thugs. Now that the battle was over and the adrenaline was no longer spiking in dangerous intervals, Peter could see what he hadn't been able to see before.

He saw the softer edges of the girl's face, the large brown eyes in a face that hadn't even been granted a mask.

The fresh meat were never given masks. As if their existence was already so inconsequential that their faces provided the perfect mask already.

He saw the scars on the man's face, faded and white but still visible. He saw a man that wasn't ready to be called a man yet. He couldn't have been much older than nineteen.

In fact, neither of them could have been older than 25.

. . . .

Too young to die.

 _(They all are.)_

He knelt down to face the pair, the boy shrinking back slightly as Peter leaned closer. The teen tried to ignore the sound of encroaching sirens as he faced off against them, the harsh glare that had been marring the girl's face no longer present. "What's your name?" He found himself asking before he could think better of it.

The boy stared at him for a second, eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to get a read on him. He opened his mouth, only for the girl to nudge him and shake her head. He glanced over at her before turning back to face Peter.

"Bobby. M-my name's Bobby."

The teen stared at him, taking in his shaking form and terrified face. He could still hear the voice in the back of his head, condemning him for his actions, but he just couldn't stop looking at the boy's face. He couldn't stop hearing the fear in his voice, the pleading desperation he'd come to know so well.

"That's a nice name."

The pair blinked in surprise at the vigilante in front of him, the few words being the only _real_ dialogue they'd shared not counting quips and banter.

"S-short for Robert..."

"Figured as much."

Peter knew speaking to such people perhaps wasn't the smartest thing to do, then again, neither was what he was about to do _next._ And yet, the teen couldn't really bring himself to care as he reached into one of the compartments on his belt, removing a vial of clear liquid.

"Listen to me." He said, his voice now strong and commanding, a sharp contrast to the quiet tone it had taken on. "You have to leave the weapons. You are to never see your boss again. Never interact with them, LISTEN-" He snapped his fingers near their faces to make sure they hung onto his words. "They will try to find you once they realize you've split. You need to lay low and stay in the shadows. No deals. No bangers. No nothing. You understand me. If you show your face to anyone on the inside, you will die. Do you understand?"

They frantically nodded their heads as Peter began to pour the liquid onto the webbing, a soft hissing filling the air as they instantly began to dissolve. As soon as it was gone, the girl leapt up to her feet, tore off the straps on her arms and sprinted down the alleyway, disappearing into the shadows before Peter even had a chance to open his mouth.

The teen stared off at where she'd disappeared to, the noticeable lack of shuffling sounds notifying him that Bobby hadn't tried to do the same.

Letting a small sigh fall from his lips, Peter slowly rose up to his feet and turned around, meeting Bobby's wide-eyed stare. The boy stood just a little taller than him, Bobby's fingers twitching nervously at his sides as he angeled his eyes towards the end of the alleyway where the sound of sirens continued to grow.

Still, he made no moves to escape, simply staring back at Peter with wide blinking eyes.

. . . .

"Why?"

Peter stared at him for a moment, the flashing of red and blue lights dimply growing stronger on the walls of his periphery. The teen swallowed down the bile rising in the back of his throat and curled his sweaty fingers into fists as he shut his eyes and turned to stare at the wall beside them where the crates still stood stacked and webbed safely. "You should go. They'll be here any second."

The boy glanced once more to the alleyway exit and then back to Spider-Man. He opened his mouth, only to grit his teeth and throw the hero a look that conveyed more than words ever could before he turned on his heel and disappeared.

Peter stared after him for a moment, body seemingly numb as his fingers twitched at his sides, almost seeming to hope the small movement would awaken the nerves in his muscles. However, the bright flashing of lights jarred him from his thoughts.

Quickly shaking his head, the teen turned and fired a web above his head.

Lifting off into the air, Peter found the numbness didn't leave. Not as he fired another web, not as the tell-tale weightlessness of free-falling grabbed his throat and punched his gut before he pulled back up, and not as the wind whipped around him like wild banshees clawing at his bones.

Despite the stimuli that flared in New York City's night life hours, Peter found none of it could warm the freezing numbness that seemed to have settled in his chest. None of it could wake him from the dream-like state he found himself in, a state he could only hope wouldn't last past morning.

And as he swung and his house drew nearer and the numbness grew, Peter found he still couldn't answer the boy's question.

 _(Why?)_

* * *

 **Spider-Man: Far from Home is on my top 3 list of MCU movies it was THAT GOOD! I saw it on opening night with a group of my friends and then again with my family and I was legit BLOWN AWAY! Perfect for cutting through that Post-Endgame depression.**

 **So this chapter was a BITCH to write. I kept writing and rewriting scenes, rearranging the whole chapter and the chapters to follow cause I didn't know how I really wanted to structure this so if this chapter seems a bit all over the place or of lesser quality than my others, then I thoroughly apologize. I really tried my best with this one but it was just really difficult to get all the pieces to fit together.**

 **I tried my best!**

 **So what do you all think of Danny? He's gonna be one of a couple of OCs that make their way into this story. For those of you who hate many OCs in stories, then don't worry cause they won't play TOO big roles and DEFINITELY won't be stars of the story. But I promise they are important to the rest of the story progression. I'm not one to just make random OCs cause I want someone who's friends with Peter and who I can talk through as if they're me. When writers do that, it is so transparently and GLARINGLY OBVIOUS and irks me to no end!**

 **DO not fear, these characters will be like any other character with motivations and emotions and actual flesh. But they won't be MEGA important, just important enough for me to include them. I promise I know where I'm going with this.**

 **So give me your incite as to what you think of Danny? DO you like him? Do I even _want_ you to like him? Or do I want you to hate him? Only _I_ truly know! MWAHAHAHA!**

 **Anyway, thanks to everyone for favoriting and/or following this story o'mine!: _Lyndenn, HorrorFan13, Roarasaurus, Rufus, JustFeedMe, LacrimasDream, Reef Cj, Rosie Vulpes, SupernaturalInfatuation18, icyfox, DianaKohler, Marian96, Randombitch73, Reyna7531, etlantis, poseidonschild721, 2016jsaprinceton, 5, Jinx1223, mik4959, Adelheid32, AveryP1017, sapheere, DreamCatcher06, EilleKuroko, przechowywalnia ff, puma007, The platinum God, I.D.'s Fantasy, Mayonaka Yue, Rowantrees, UchihaMadara2412, Werewoldahaverights, sakuraHU328, Polkadot4946, evestephie, Touch My No No Square, adomacniccatnerd, i-miss-tonystark, Landree, fandomfanatic150, Sherryl Niria, katilange, Hazelnut18, LadyWeaver, kates the firework, TheGallopingCupcake, HUGEmarvelerd1, RBK16, 56RoyalPeasant15, Edward'sHeroinType, Ageless sky, Ava-Rose54, Merlikuty, The Rag Lady, bridebapeace, Vgn Golley, alyssabiden, digimonfanatic4ever, flabbergasted111, pandagirly2563, sillysammijo, rbug24, Yurina101, PitMaster115, DianaKohler, Razor Blade the Unicorn, maanou, bernadetteburns, siemers, F - U - M, kates the firework, Dutoc, RageAgainstTheDyingOfLight, Robinchen, Shion Lee, Rhosymedra Potter, Vivi Bruenblatt, evestephie, MyMindJJ, ntnhkmnh98, D8rkforcen1ght7, SweetHansel, blairwitch, onetruegeek, kmreece, sleepy247, Brown-Eyed-Marauderette, MusingOfSpring, yueluver, Jesseblackhawk, PhantasmicNovember, YaDora the Explora, bwlchck, suttonreads._**

 **Reviews:**

 **. : Thank you! I like the new title too!**

 **SongNoFound: Peter/Tony scenes are gold. They're literally my favorite thing to write! No JOKE! Nice to see you enjoy reading them too**

 **Mayonaka Yue: Petey boy deserves the world! And so does his new father, Tony.**

 **Verinorina: Yeah, I was kinda used to Colors of Venom too, but I really like the change I made and I'm glad to see you like it too.**

 **Wxnderland: Aww, thank you so much! Man, I haven't thought of Under the Wings in a while. I should really probably finish that...Dude, you're not the only one who gets excited when this story updates, cause it means I get to see how you all react to the chapter! It makes me so happy inside when I see reviews and comments and just UGG! I love it! And I love all of you!**

 **Phoenixhp5: May's sassiness is what I live for. And I know he sucks, but writing Flash and his annoyingness is just so much frikkin fun!**

 **Agent blue rose: Soft fluffiness is the cure for disease. And badass May is like a vaccine.**

 **Ravenclaw Black Mamba: Don't worry. You'll be seeing more of these interactions and relationships as the story continues to progress. You don't have to wait for an update anymore! So here you go!**

 **PrincessNaina: AAAAAA! And I love YOU! Hope you understand the reasons for the title change.**

 **katie owl: Aww thank you! Well I think you're an amazing reader, so THERE! Don't worry. You'll be seeing more of Clint, Scott and all the other Rogue avengers as the story progresses and continues.**

 **TheRealMasonMac: No, this is all AU after Civil War**

 **RosettaQueen20: Due, I basically live on this site. And that means so much to me that you come back just for my frikkin story! How awesome are you?!**

 **repliedgrunt14: Does that make me Lex Luthor?** **It legit pains me when I realize people actually look at my DeviantArt account. Some of that stuff is from my first story and YEESH!**

 **Rosie Vulpes: Ooo, Tony you better watch yourself cause it look slike someone might come after you if you don't**

 **Owlqueen08: thank you. I kinda like that so far, I'm the only writer on this site that's really tried that idea. And don't worry about the other Avengers. You'll be seeing a LOT more of them as this story continues.**

 **purpleflame2: For the most part, this story is kinda a slow burn. But once it picks up, you're gonna pray for me to slow it down cause it'll be too much for your little hearts to bare. And just cause you're sister seems to be itching for it, I'll tell you this. After the Decathlon tournament, things are really gonna get intense so just be ready for that and be careful what you wish for.**

 **: Thanks, glad to hear you don't mind the title change. Dude, reading the rest of your comment, you are so frikkin wise! I just...I don't even feel qualified to talk to you!**

 **find true strength: I think _you're_ amazing. How bout that, huh?!**

 **Owlqueen08: Don't think I've forgotten about her. You'll just have to meet Danny first.**

 **StarStepper: Thank you! Tony is definitely one of my favorite characters to work with because he is just already so expertly written and then getting to put my own twist on it with this story is even more fun.**

 **I.D.'s Fantasy: Thank you! I like the new title too! Yeah, I do get a little heavy-handed with the cursing. It's just that all these characters live n New York City, which is kinda...heavy with the slurs and curse words. Plus with the stuations my these characters find themselves in, I like to have them express themselves in the most realistic way possible, which usually means cursing. Still, I'm sorry for the amount and I'll see what I can do about it.**

 **Shion Lee: Better sweep up those little shards, sweetie. We're not even half way through yet! And trust me, you're gonna need all the heart pieces you can find for these next few upcoming chapters. Cause...little warning, after Decathlon, some MAJOR SHIT is gonna go down. Just saying!**

 **DreamCatcher06: Welcome to the family, newbie. Hope we make you feel welcome for your little stay in our corner of the web! So sit back, relax and enjoy a fine helping of reading!**

 **cargumentluv: With most stories involving Peter and Tony, May is kinda put on the backburner and while I understand why that is doe and will ultimately have to have her be more of a side character than a main attraction, May's love for Peter is one of the purest things out there and it isn't portrayed enough in fics so I wanted to remedy that by showing just how far she's willing to go to protect the kid.**

 **Sherryl Niria: First and foremost, thank you for the extra long review. You have no idea how much I love to read them. Sorry for the lack of sleep. But you know what they say. Sleep is for the people with good lives and healthy minds. So...not really fit for us! Yeah, Id din't like Tony all that much either when I fist got into Marvel. Really, the upcomng hype for Infinity War was what got me to binge watch all the movies with my friends and after Iron Man 3, Tony Stark became my favorite character. But yeah, writing Tony and Peter is still my favorite cause it combines my two most favorite characters in the entire MCU. And sorry not sorry for all that anxiety. And for the continuing interluds, I promise to only include them when they're needed and important for revealing something you need to know just like the previous one.**

 **katilange: Geez, man! Are your eyes okay?**

 **Toni42: We'll just have to wait and see how Decathlon turns out. And trust me, after that, you're gonna be begging for something sweet and soft like the previous chapters have been cause they are gonna be a DOOZY if you get what I'm throwing down.**

 **sillysammijo: "Just one more chapter" should me written on my wall. Literally, It's like my motto for this site. I get to sleep with reading, right? But ever since I found this site all those years ago, it's been hard to read actual BOOKS cause they aren't about characters I already know and love. That's why I love this site so much. It gives me more content for characters I wish I could see more. I guess that's what I want to do with this story. Give people who love Tony and Peter more time together because the short little things we got in Homecoming and Infinity War and Endgame were CRIMINALLY SHORT!**

 **Tightpants182: guess we'll just have to wait and see, huh?**


	17. Go For The Gold

**Chapter 17: Go For The Gold**

* * *

 **Saturday - April 16, 2016**

 **Parker Residence - Third Floor**

 **04:44 p.m.**

The steam from the bathroom seemed to fill the entire room as Peter stepped out, the towel he was currently rubbing against his scalp making his hair stick up at odd angles. He draped the towel around his shoulders as he moved farther into the room, the bottom cuffs of his jeans now damp as the last few bits of water dripped down his legs and pooled into the denim fabric.

After whisking away enough of the dripping water from his bare midsection, Peter tossed the damp cloth onto the floor and moved to pick up his shirt. He draped it over his head and pulled it down taut before glancing over at the bright yellow Decathlon jacket that hung on the back of his closet door.

The teen walked over to his desk and picked up his phone from where it was charging. Glancing at the time, the teen gave a small nod. He still had plenty of time before Ned came to pick him up.

So with that, the teen finished dressing and _attempted_ to run a comb through his hair, though he knew it was a pointless endeavor. His hair always ended up looking fluffy and slightly messy no matter how many times he tried to tame it down.

Walking over towards the entrance to his bedroom, Peter cracked it open just a bit and peeked his head out to look around the corner. There was no sign of his father, which meant he was probably downstairs talking to the Cons if the voices drifting up from the room below were any indication.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, the teen stepped back and closed the door, resting his hands against the smooth surface as he shut his eyes for a moment.

Ever since the story about him and Mr. Stark had leaked to the press, neither his father nor the Cons had made any mention of it. Now there were a number of options for their lack of reaction. The first was that they simply hadn't heard of the story, which Peter found hard to believe. The second was that his father had instructed the others not to say anything.

Peter didn't know what that could mean, but he knew no good could come out of it. If anything, the suspense was more terrifying than anything else...at least for now.

Still, the teen tried to shake such thoughts from his head as his eyes caught the calendar hanging on the back of his door. Today's date was circled in red marker multiple times, Peter grinning slightly as he felt the same bout of excitement that had gripped him when he'd done such a thing returning. A full bout of nerves that always plagued him before a meet mingled with the familiar surge of excitement that reminded the teen of why he was on the team to begin with.

"Oi! What's got you all prissy an' ready to go?"

Peter jerked at the sudden voice, only to let out another more annoyed sigh as he turned on his heel and faced his _open_ balcony window, Danny now resting on his bed with his arms folded underneath his head. Peter rolled his eyes and threw the teen a smile. "I have a Decathlon meet today."

"Oh, your nerd fight?"

"Yes...my nerd fight."

Danny nodded his head with a click of his tongue. "Sounds brutal. Make sure to pack plenty of inhalers and antiseptic."

Peter scoffed and turned away, opening up his closet door as he let his eyes drift over the pairs of shoes he owned. "What are you doing here anyway, D? What do you want, food?"

"No. But if you _wanted_ to give me some..."

Peter turned and shrugged his shoulders with a smirk. "Sorry. Kitchen's occupied so _neither_ of us are leaving here with full stomachs." Peter turned back around and crouched down when he found the pair of sneakers he was looking for.

"Nah, I'm joking'. I'm just here to crash for a sec."

Peter hummed but said nothing to insinuate that such a thing wasn't allowed as he sat down on the edge of the bed and lifted up a leg, slipping the shoes on one by one before crouching down to tie the laces. "Uh-huh? And your little impromptu visit has _nothing_ to do with the latest _news articles_ that have been making their way around the city."

The teen craned his neck to glance over at Danny, the older boy staring back at him for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. "Well...now that you _mention it..._ "

Peter shook his head. "It's nothing, Danny. Some reporters just happened to catch us together that time."

Danny cocked a brow as he brought up one leg to rest on the bent knee of the other. "You say that like it's not the last time it's gonn' happen."

Peter felt his face scrunch up slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I mean...they're inevitably gonna snag more pictures. Mr. Stark likes to get out of the Tower sometimes, and _sometimes_ it coincides with when school lets out. No big deal."

"Yeah, but why would a billionaire be eatin' at Delmar's?"

Once again, Peter turned to the boy and shrugged his shoulders. "He asked where the best places to get food were around here."

"And you said Delmar's?"

"You _wouldn't_ say Delmar's?"

"Sub Haven's pretty good."

"You know how I feel about Sub Haven. We are _not_ getting into this again."

Danny turned away with a grin on his face while Peter chuckled on the edge of the bed. The younger teen ran a hand through his hair as he finished the last knot on his sneakers, purposefully keeping his eyes from meeting Danny's as he continued. "Who knows? I might even see him today."

There was no response for a moment as Danny turned back around. "What do you mean?"

"I might have...invited him to my Decathlon meet."

The homeless boy let out a scoff as he rolled over onto his side and used his elbow to prop himself up as he stared over at Peter. "And he'd go for that? Why, is there gonna be an open bar or somethin'?"

Peter threw him a look before glancing back down at the ground. "I think...I think he... _likes_ spending time with me." He said slowly as if the words themselves were hard to spit out. Hard to believe. "I think he... _likes_ being with me." Peter glanced down at his hands for a moment, letting the words ring in his ears for a moment before turning a tentative look towards his friend. "Do you think that's crazy?"

Danny stared at him for a moment before pursing his lips and tossing his head back lazily. "Maybe, but crazy seems to be a pretty big norm 'round you so I can't really say." He lifted a hand to look at his nails. "You already know how I feel 'bout the guy so I won't rehash it." He picked some dirt from in between his cuticles.

"You really should give him a chance, Danny. He's a good guy once you get to know him." Peter said with a smile as he turned back towards his friend. "Why don't you come to the tournament today? Maybe you could meet him." He folded his arms and scrunched his face slightly. "And if not, then you could at _least_ meet Ned. I've been friends with you guys since middle school and you two _still_ haven't met!"

Danny cringed slightly at the words, though not so much out of nerves than pure reluctance. His face then melted into a look of resigned indifference. "I'm not really a people person, cuz. Besides, watching nerds duel to see who's the nerdiest isn't really how I saw myself spending a Saturday."

Peter would have responded had he heard what Danny said. But he didn't.

Instead, his eyes were trained on the calendar once more, staring at a date he hadn't realized was as close as it was. It was a little less than two weeks from the mess that was today's circled date.

Well, _this_ box wasn't circled. It wasn't marked in any way, shape or form. To anyone else, the date would seem to hold no importance, at least not to Peter.

April 29th.

In the background, Danny called out his name, but once again, Peter gave no indication that he heard. Instead, his fingers continued to twitch, tapping up against the side of his leg before they gripped the fabric so tightly it was a miracle they didn't rip. The teen tried to swallow but found that his mouth had gone dry all of a sudden.

He was jerked from his trance as a pillow connected with the back of his head, causing him to jerk violently in shock. "Ey! What's up with you, mate? You spacin' on me or somethin'?"

Peter turned towards his friend and blinked his eyes. He felt a breath leave his lips so forcefully it took him a moment to realize it was because he'd been holding his breath. He licked his dry lips and turned away from Danny's scrutinizing look. "I should go." He said quietly, rising up from the bed.

"Alright. You don't mind if I crash here for a little bit, do ya?"

The teen shook his head as he grabbed his Decathlon jacket and pulled it onto one of his arms. "Nah, go ahead. Just be careful, alright? Last thing I need is my father catching whiff of you here."

Danny threw him a two-fingered salute. "Can do. Good luck in your nerd war. And say hi to Tony Stark for me."

Peter smiled and gave a nod before grabbing his phone and moving over towards the door. He stared down at the calendar for a moment before shaking his head and pulling open the door a little harder than he needed if the groan of the hinges was any indication.

He couldn't think about it now.

As the door closed, Danny couldn't help but turn a curious gaze to the calendar before finding nothing interesting about it and shrugging his shoulders, folding his arms underneath his head as he let out a content sigh on the comfortable bed.

 **. . . . .**

Shaking the last of the troubling thoughts out of his head, Peter walked down the spiraling staircase that led to the second-floor kitchen. The sound of voices growing larger indicated that most of the Cons were there right now, most likely meaning his father was there too.

Stepping off the stairs and into the large kitchen, his suspicions were confirmed. Curt and Sandra were sitting at the bar, bottles of miscellaneous liquid in their hands as they chatted away, while Max sat at the kitchen table with Peter's father, both men glaring down at the papers strewn across the surface. Flint stood over by the fridge, currently rummaging through whatever contents it held.

Sandra spotted him first, cocking a brow as she took sight of the jacket around him. "Where you going?" She called with a lazy uninterested look in her eyes as she swirled the bottle in her hand a bit before bringing it to her lips.

Peter groaned, having hoped he'd be able to slip by them without their notice. Instead, he fiddled with the bottom hem of the jacket as he shrugged his shoulders. "I have a Decathlon meet today. N-Ned's picking me up...soon." He stuttered out, eyes downcast.

Curt rolled his eyes and snickered over towards the woman he sat beside. "God, sometimes I forget just how much of a loser you are, kiddo. Then lo and behold, you throw us something like that and bring it right back up to the surface again." He tilted the bottle in Peter's direction. "Nice to know you're consistent."

"Thank you...?"

Max lifted his head and threw a glare in the teen's direction. "How long's that gonna take?"

Peter once again gave a shrug of his shoulders, body twitching as bouts of uncomfortableness seemed to shiver up his spine, making him want to squirm underneath the man's scrutinizing looks. Max could sometimes be just as bad as his father. Perhaps that was why he was Peter's least favorite by means of the Cons. Of course, such a title wasn't really anything impressive considering the thugs all held similar places of resentment in Peter's heart.

"I...I don't know. They vary, you know? C-could be a while...I guess." He tapered off, too nervous to continue lest he say something wrong. Chances of that were high whenever Max was in a bad mood.

The dark-skinned man curled his lip in disgust before glaring back down at the papers, roughly picking up a pen once more. "Get out of here, then. Go bother some other idiots for a change."

"Hey!" Sandra and Curt called from their seats. Max ignored them as he continued to scribble down notes on the papers. Richard had yet to look up, a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

Peter's eyes drifted over to his father's huge form. Even sitting down, the man was startlingly large, with broad shoulders and defined muscles that revealed themselves even through the refined fit of the dress shirt he currently wore. Swallowing thickly, Peter turned and glanced over at the stairs that led down to the bottom floor of their building. However, he made no move towards them.

An itching feeling in the back of his mind had the teen pausing, eyes lingering back over to his father, whose head was currently being held up with one hand as he used the other to scrawl on the pages of the work before him, dark eyes hard and narrowed.

Peter could practically _see_ his heart attempting to burst from his chest as he took a small step closer to the others, the thrumming in his ears so loud, he was surprised it didn't shake the entire house. Sweat began to leak through the skin of his palms as he nervously clenched and unclenched his fists against the fabric of his pants, toes curling inside his shoes as he grimaced ever so slightly.

Practically every nerve n his body screamed at him to get out of there. To take the free ticket Max had offered him and book it before Sandra and Curt got any drunker and began to mess with him, before Max's mood shifted and he decided to take it out on Peter, before his father _let_ them.

And yet, the image of an empty seat sitting in an otherwise full gymnasium kept him rooted to the spot, the sounds of Flash's jeers and the pitying looks of his teammates culminating in his chest and freezing him where he stood.

It was then that Max lifted his eyes and noticed the teen was still there. He narrowed his eyes and glared. "The hell you still doin' here?"

Peter felt his mouth opening before he had any time to think better of it, which meant before he had any time to come up with an answer. "I...I-I uh...I was just wond...wondering if...if um...I mean, I'd assume you're busy but I...I uh..."

It was then Richard Parker lifted his head and closed his eyes with a loud inhale through the nose. Peter instantly quieted at that, the other Cons glancing over at the man as he set down the pen in his hands and took the glasses off of his face, setting them down onto the table as well. He slowly exhaled before opening his eyes and turning towards Peter.

"What is it?" His voice wasn't necessarily angry. It was just cold...disinterested. Annoyed.

Immediately feeling bubbles of regret floating up through his intestines with the threat of bringing up whatever food he had in his stomach (which wasn't much if he were being honest), Peter licked his lips and clenched the fabric of his jacket _hard_. Staring into his father's eyes made him feel like he was _literally_ pooling into his own shoes, melting away under the intense look.

Nevertheless, he swallowed the bile that loomed in the back of his throat and lifted his gaze. "It's just...at t-the last meet, my teammates were...were asking about...were asking about you and I was...um, I was just wondering if maybe...m-maybe you wanna...come with me?"

He regretted the words as soon as they were out there. But there was no taking them back now.

Silence filled the kitchen, Sandra and Curt staring at them as their bottles lowered, Flint glancing up from his fridge raid and Max watching him with a cocked brow.

Then laughter. Howls of it.

Sandra and Curt doubled over as they practically fell out of their chairs, faces scrunched and red as they gasped and chortled while Flint snorted from his place by the fridge, his loud nasally laugh seemingly making the whole room quiver. Max said nothing, merely sneered before turning back to the papers below him.

But Peter's eyes weren't on them. They were on his father, whose face had yet to emote any sort of emotion. They just continued to stare at each other, seemingly locked in a battle of wills that Peter found he couldn't look away from. Despite the shrill shrieks of laughter, the sounds of pens scribbling on paper or the clinking _chink_ of a bottle cap popping off the top as Flint finally slammed the fridge door shut, Peter could do nothing but _stare_ into his father's eyes, so deep and brown they were more black than anything else.

However, all noises instantly quieted as the harsh sound of Richard's chair scooting against the wooden floor screeched through the air. Slowly, quietly, the man lifted himself out of the seat, Peter instantly taking a step back as the man moved forward, seemingly before him within a footstep.

Peter had been wrong before. _Now_ he wanted to melt into his shoes.

Expecting a smack, a punch, _something_ , the teen braced himself for a blow of some sort, any type of punishment for stepping out of line. That made it all the more surprising, then, when his father reached behind the teen and grabbed a folder that had been sitting on the counter behind him. Peter released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as his father flipped open the folder and glanced down at it, never even looking at the boy as he spoke.

"What do you tell them?"

 _What?_

"What?"

"Your teammates. What do you tell them about me not being there?"

"Oh...I...I usually just tell them that you're...that you're working late or s-something..."

The man loudly shut the folder with a resounding _slap_ as he narrowed his eyes and stared at his son. "Then why the _fuck_ are you bothering me with this?"

And there it was.

Peter cringed under the man's harsh tone, seemingly curling in on himself as he shrank back. "I...I-I was just...j-just..."

The man paused and pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose, seeming to take a breath. He licked his lips and glanced down at the papers below. "Peter...you know you're important to me, right?"

That's... _not_ what he'd been expecting. Unsure of how he should respond, the boy decided not to. Richard didn't seem to mind, for he continued anyway. "You are important to me because you're important to my research." He stated, folding his arms behind his back as he turned to stare down at the boy. "And my research means _everything_ to me...meaning you, by extension, mean very much to me as well."

The room instantly seemed to darken as the man narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. "But do you see us doing research right now?"

A tight lump began to form in the boy's throat. "No..." He whispered almost inaudibly. His father picked up on it, however.

"No. We aren't." He growled, lifting himself back up. "We _aren't_ working meaning you _aren't_ of use to me meaning doing such things would be a _complete_ waste of time and you **know** how I feel about wasting my time!" The man snarled as he turned back to the table, slapping the file down onto the surface, the papers already there fluttering slightly at the small breeze.

Peter instantly took a step back as Richard's temper flared for just a brief second before the man shut his eyes and seemed to flip a switch, instantly reverting back to normal, his voice so calm it made Peter's skin crawl. "So...why on _Earth_ would you ask me such a question _?"_

Okay, on second thought, perhaps he would have preferred the slap.

The man shook his head and blew out another breath, Peter resisting the urge to hightail it out of there before the man could speak once more. However, he rooted himself in and cautiously lifted his head as he watched the man lean back down into his seat, perching his glasses back atop his nose. "I have business I need to attend to upstate. I'll be back on Thursday." He turned to look over at his son. "You have till then to get yourself in order. I don't want to hear any more stupid questions leaving your mouth after this."

He narrowed his eyes. Peter was sure a plant behind him burst into flames. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Crystal.

"I'd better be. Now get out of here before you _really_ piss me off."

He didn't need to be told twice. He ignored the snickers of the Cons that followed him down the stairs, feeling them bounce off the door as he slammed it behind him. A deep breath deflated out of him as he leaned up against the front door to the building, eyes shutting as he leaned his head against the smooth surface.

In all honesty, that went better than expected.

Gently fluttering his eyes open, Peter took in the sight of the quiet street before him. Only a few cars lay parked on the road, the sidewalks empty of any and all joggers, walkers or anything else of the sort. His street was always pretty quiet. Or maybe it was just around his house.

The neighbors always _did_ try to avoid them.

Slowly stepping down the few steps leading up to the front door, Peter stopped and crouched down on the last one, sitting up against the railing as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It would still be a couple of minutes before Ned came to pick him up.

Shoving his phone away, Peter ran a hand through his now-dry hair and let out a tired sigh. He could still feel his heart pounding from his previous conversation, the pulse beats slowly dimming down as he tried to take a couple of deep breaths.

Bad idea. Bad idea had practically been written all over it. The teen shook his head and glanced down at the cracked concrete below his feet. "God...such an idiot." He murmured under his breath.

And he was. Plain and simple. There was no other way to explain it. He was, in fact, just a _huge idiot._

His father only ever took interest in him when the topic of his DNA was on the table. In the lab, under the microscope, during training, Richard Parker's eyes were always trained on _him._ Down there...Peter was important, Peter was coveted...because Peter was the key.

But away from the lab, out in the real world, the real world with families and parent-teacher conferences and birthdays and holidays and just about anything and everything that made up what a _real_ father-son relationship looked like...Peter Parker meant nothing, and his father had no qualms about making it known.

Somewhere in his head, Peter knew this. He'd known this ever since he was four years old and his little hand had remained without another to hold at his mother's funeral. He'd known this ever since teachers stopped asking him about when his father would be available for conferences. He'd known this ever since the Cons entered his life and ultimately made it ten times worse.

Somewhere in there, in the amalgamation of ideas, nerves, and thoughts that constantly circulated through his mind, Peter _knew_ this.

And yet...in that sea of noise, Peter couldn't help but be hit with wave after wave of hesitation, the water slamming into him like a slap to the face, knocking the breath from his lungs. It came in the form of memories. Memories of Peter sitting at his father's feet while he worked, of helping him in the lab as they went over Peter's unique DNA structure, of his father telling him that one day, Peter would be _incredibly_ important in helping the human race thrive.

 _(We aren't working meaning you aren't of use to me...)_

With every reminder of who his father was becoming, Peter was slapped by the waves, the distant crashing of memories he refused to let go of. The water was just too strong. The current wouldn't let him go.

He was trapped. And he was drowning.

A loud roaring filled his ears, the familiar deep-throated growl of an expensive car's engine. Peter's eyes instantly flung open as he leaned forward on the concrete step, craning his neck as his eyes strained to catch a glimpse of a sleek expensive car with one very grumpy driver at the wheel, putting an ironic twist on his _"Happy_ " name.

However, Peter visibly deflated as he watched one of the _neighbor's_ car's pass him by, the wind it stirred up making his hair lick his cheeks as it blew past him. _Get a grip, Parker. He isn't coming._ He growled at himself.

It wasn't that he was surprised. Peter had known from the _second_ it'd left his mouth that inviting Mr. Stark to his Decathlon meet had been a very big _stretch_. With everything the man was dealing with - the Accords, government officials, the media, the Rogue Avengers - it was a miracle that Mr. Stark even had time to _see_ him on a weekly basis.

Peter was just grateful for that, for the opportunity to see the man on a regular schedule. So he'd been a hundred percent prepared for the man to decline his offer, to say on no uncertain terms that such a thing was _way_ below his standards.

Therefore, Peter shouldn't have been upset that Mr. Stark wasn't coming today. He _should_ have been prepared for it, just like before. Last week during their impromptu pizza night, Mr. Stark had made it abundantly clear that laying low and keeping out of the public eye was in everybody's best interest. The man was right. The man made sense. He wasn't trying to make Peter feel bad. If anything, he was trying to _help_ him.

So why did it still feel so...bad?

In the back of his head, the image of an empty chair in a filled auditorium made his fingers twitch against his sides once more.

No, Peter _wasn't_ surprised...and _that's_ what made him feel so disappointed. Because in the months that he'd known Mr. Stark, in the talks that they'd held, the connections they'd developed, the bond they'd created...Mr. Stark _always_ surprised him.

He surprised him in the way that he genuinely seemed happy to see him. He surprised him in the way that he made him laugh and giggle and smile in ways he hadn't for _years._ He surprised him in the way that he actually seemed... _interested_ in his dorky intern.

 _(We aren't working meaning you aren't of use to me...)_

So, no. Peter wasn't surprised. And perhaps _that_ was what surprised him the most.

Before the teen could dwell on the subject anymore, the sound of a car horn snapped in his ears, making him jolt in his seat. He whipped his head up and felt a smile crawl onto his face as a large blue minivan pulled up along the curb. The back window rolled down, Ned popping his head out as the large boy beamed. "Guess who's got the latest issue of Super Mario Party and is gonna play it all the way to the convention center?"

"No way! When'd you get that?!"

"This is no time for questions!" The teen shouted as Peter opened the door and Ned forcefully shoved the bright red controller into his hands, adjusting the miniature screen so that they both could see. "We have a tournament afoot and nothing says mental preparation like beating Mario's ass around a Star Map."

"Language." Mrs. Leeds called from the front seat, shaking her head with a smile as she turned around. "How are you, Peter?"

The teen gave her a smile in return. "Apparently about to get savagely beaten in the span of thirty minutes." He said as he waved the controller around in his hand, the woman chuckling before turning back around in her seat.

"You guys are such dorks." Peter blinked before craning his neck to see Ned's sister in the passenger seat in front of him, the eleven-year-old twisting in her seat to gaze at them with disdain Peter didn't know an eleven-year-old could possess.

Ned glared at her. "Shut up, Kayla."

"You shut up, nerd."

"We are _not_ doing this for the next half-hour you two." Mrs. Leeds said with an air of exasperation that made Peter think such a thing happened often, which - considering he'd known Ned for years- he knew it did. "Kayla, stop bothering your brother."

"I'm just saying. You made a nerd, mom. Really dropped the ball there."

The woman pursed her lips, Peter guessing she would have pinched the bridge of her nose had she not had both hands on the wheel. Ned rolled his eyes and Peter let out a laugh before the other boy was nudging him in the shoulder.

"Whatever. Forget about her. All you need to know is we have thirty free minutes and a game to beat."

"Show me what you got, Leeds."

"Bring it, Parker."

. . . .

"Shit, I wanted to be Yoshi."

 **. . . . .**

Thirty minutes and one heated Mario Party game later found the group stepping out of the car and walking in through the front doors of the convention center. Having been cleaned up and organized for the school function, bakery booths and drink sales were lined up in make-shift tables along the walls, banners and streamers hanging from the ceiling, both in their respective school's colors: Midtown's yellow and blue and George St Luke's green and white.

"Alright. I'll see you two inside. I need to buy Kayla some snacks to keep her preoccupied through this." Mrs. Leeds said with a roll of her eyes before pinching Ned's cheeks. Said boy whined and pulled away, pushing Peter towards the auditorium doors while the other boy waved goodbye to the older woman.

Stepping in through the doors, they were instantly greeted to the sound of numerous voices all overlapping each other, people either sitting down in their seats or walking along the aisles talking to others.

"Man, Decathlon's really heating up this season. I don't think there's _ever_ been this many people." Ned breathed from beside his friend with a large smile. Peter scanned the crowd, taking in the different faces, voices, smells. He took a few deep breaths to ground himself, feeling his heart pound just a little faster than before.

As the two teens walked along the far aisle closest to the wall, they approached the curtain that led them backstage, whipping it back as they stepped in the dimly lit area.

Quickly spotting the other members of their team, the two fell in line as MJ scanned her eyes over them. "About time you two showed up." She muttered, Ned shrugging his shoulders. "We aren't even _late._ We're ten minutes _early_."

"Next time, make it fifteen."

The boy rolled his eyes but said nothing as the other members of their team nudged their hellos with winks and quick smiles. Both Peter and Ned returned them, neither of them noticing Flash in the back, his arms folded and his face pulled back into a disapproving sneer.

MJ cleared her throat and began to speak to the team. "Alright, people. This is it. We've been preparing for this meet for the past month and I expect it to show out there."

Mr. Harrington walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder before glancing at the kids before him. "Just do the best that you can, guys. You'll do great!"

MJ threw him a look before turning back to the group. "Losing is _not_ an option."

"But...it's okay if you do. I'm still proud of you guys anyway."

"Earn my pride. Win this thing."

"Okay...well..."

The team members glanced back and forth between the teacher and the girl, eyes darting left and right. Peter could still hear them talking in the back of his head, but his eyes drifted away from her and over towards the black curtain separating them from the audience. The curtain was peeled back just enough that a crack was visible among the dark fabric.

Through the crack, Peter could see the audience as more and more people sat down to find their seats. In the front few rows, each and every chair was reserved for a specified number of family members. One one side of the auditorium, green name cards sat for the family members of the other team while light blue cards sat on the chairs for Midtown.

He could make out several familiar faces, faces he saw every time there was a meet. Ned's mom and little sister, Cindy's dad, Charlie's parents, Abe's siblings, even Flash's butler. As his eyes continued to drift, he could make out May sitting in her usual seat, rummaging through her bag as she pulled out a bag of almonds she'd smuggled in through the doors, completely ignoring the rule that no food other than stuff bought _at_ the complex was allowed.

May _always_ smuggled in food. She lifted her gaze as she snuck an almond into her mouth, her eyes suddenly reaching Peter's. She did a double-tack just to make sure it was him before giving him a little wave and placing one finger over her mouth as she gingerly held up the bag of almonds and shook it for him to see.

Peter smiled and shook his head in return, only for his eyes to drift to the seat next to May. The usual name it always displayed sat and stared back at him, only this time, it was crossed out with permanent marker and a new name was written underneath it, just large enough for Peter to make out.

His stomach churned slightly at the sight of it.

Feeling a gentle nudge sway him just a bit, Peter turned and saw that Ned was now standing next to him, watching the crowd as well. Behind them, MJ's "motivational" speech had finished and the other teammates were milling about backstage either glancing over flashcards one last time or chatting amongst themselves.

Ned gestured with his head towards the empty chair. "You think he's gonna show? Cause, not gonna lie, I think I would die. Right there. On the stage. Just...dead."

Peter stared at the chair for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. "Well, I think you're safe for tonight, Ned. With all the media buzz that's been going around, he's probably gonna wanna keep a low profile. Besides, the last place he'd want to go to tonight would be some lame Decathlon tournament."

Ned didn't seem so convinced. "Well, he didn't outright say ' _no'_ when you asked him the first time so he obviously hasn't _totally_ dissed it."

"Or he was just being nice."

"Nah. I'm sensing no dissing."

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes, Ned nudging him again in the shoulder with a small smirk. However, both boys let out surprised grunts as they felt arms loop around their necks. "Gotta say, Penis. You're really going _all out_ with this little charade of yours but I mean..." Flash glanced over towards the empty chair. "This is getting a little sad." He threw the boy a mock pout.

Peter ducked underneath the teen's arm while Ned threw it off a bit more forcefully. The loud jeering had caught the attention of the other Decathlon members, who were now glancing their way. Noticing their looks, Peter ducked his head slightly and lowered his voice. "What do you care, Flash?" He muttered.

"I'm just saying. If your own dad didn't wanna come to this thing, then what makes you think _Tony Stark_ is a better option?" He smirked as he folded his arms over his chest. "It's pathetic, Parker. _You're_ pathetic."

"I'll tell you what's pathetic. Having your butler sit in for your parents at a Decathlon meet you aren't even participating in." MJ said in her usual deadpanned tone of voice as she smoothly strode over, the other members of the team drifting closer as well. Flash clenched his fists and rounded on the girl. "My parents have jobs they need to worry about. They'd be here if they could." He growled out before rounding on Peter once more, desperate to get the attention off of him. "Not like you can say the same 'bout Peter's dad."

Cindy cocked a brow. "Peter's dad is one of the biggest manufacturing giants in the entire city. I'm pretty sure that counts as an important job."

"Whatever." Flash jeered. "Puny Parker just can't handle the fact that his dad's embarrassed by him, so he decided to throw in a last-ditch effort to make himself look worthwhile by pretending Tony Stark might actually come to his Decathlon match" He leaned closer to the boy, Peter narrowing his eyes and averting his gaze. "As if, loser."

The small spark of fire that Peter had felt back during their practices at school did not reignite at the boy's words. For it was hard to gain a sense of indignation when Peter knew he was right.

Mr. Stark wasn't coming. Flash was right. ( _Told you this was a bad idea, idiot.)_

However, Ned didn't seem as ready to let it go as Peter was, for the teen bunched up his fists and got right back in Flash's face. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Flash. There are pictures going around the whole city of Peter and Tony Stark together." He scoffed before folding his arms. "It's everywhere."

Flash scoffed and waved a hand at that. "As if. Those pictures are just of Tony Stark hanging out with some kid. There's no way that's Penis in those pics. You're just as delusional as your friend, Leeds."

Ned gritted his teeth and glanced over towards the other team members for some sort of backup, only to deflate as he caught sight of their doubtful looks. None of them would ever say anything outright, but it was obvious they weren't convinced of Peter's supposed relationship with Stark.

Flash seemed to notice that things were shifting in his favor as he let a victorious grin slid onto his face before he leaned closer to Peter. "What's the matter, Parker? Got nothing to say?"

Nobody said anything as all eyes slid to Peter. Ned threw his friend an apologetic look, while MJ's remained as passive and neutral as ever. Peter eyes remained locked on the ground by his feet. as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "No."

MJ narrowed her eyes and looked away at that while Ned turned to glare at Flash once more. "That's what I thought." The teen scoffed as he pushed past Peter and made his way over towards the chairs lined along the backstage wall. "Good luck, loser. You're gonna need it."

The other Decathlon members said nothing, shifting uncomfortably as they kept their eyes averted before walking away to hover by the front curtains. MJ stalled for a moment, throwing her gaze over towards Flash before turning back to the two boys. "Match starts in a few minutes. Make sure you're ready." She said before walking over towards the others.

Ned glared at her as she left before turning back to Peter. "Don't let him get to you, man. He's just a jackass." He said as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Peter blinked down at the ground for a moment before turning to gaze at his friend.

 _(_ _We aren't working meaning you aren't of use to me..._ _)_

He might not have had his father. He might not have had Mr. Stark. And he might not have had the support of his classmates. But as he gazed at his friend's shining eyes and his bright beaming smile that always made his cheeks look even bigger than they already were, Peter could honestly say that at that moment, he didn't even care.

He had Ned. And that was good enough for him.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is." He nudged the boy back. "Thanks, Ned."

 _" **If both teams would please make their way to the starting tables. The match will begin in five**_ **minutes."**

"Don't mention it, man. Now...let's go kick some nerdy butts."

"Ned... _we're_ nerds."

" _Exactly!_ And let's make sure they don't forget it!"

* * *

 **Saturday - April 16, 2016**

 **Stark Tower - Business Room 1**

 **06:20 p.m.**

"So...was there any point to this little chat other than for you to yell at us, or- to be more specific- _me?"_

" _Tony-"_

"No, I feel like it's a valid question," the billionaire muttered, glancing back towards Rhodey before turning to stare at the holograms before him once more. "You even got your little goon squad to come and make an appearance. Really, I'm touched," he scoffed, throwing Ross an unimpressed look.

In reality, only three people actually physically _stood_ in the room, those being Pepper, Rhodey and Tony himself. The other four they were currently staring at were merely holograms, including two older men, a woman and Ross. Tony didn't know the names of the others. He was sure they'd told him before but he hadn't bothered to remember them.

"Mr. Stark," the woman began. "We are only here to discuss the strategy and outcome of apprehending the rest of your team-"

" _Ex-_ team."

She sighed. "- _Ex-_ team in order to ensure they do not cause any more damages to the city or those surround it and to protect the lives they would inevitably be placing in danger," She said, eyes narrowing as her pointed face lowered, gaze piercing through overtop the rim of her glasses.

Pepper furrowed her brow and stepped forward, tied-back hair swishing as she moved. "I'm sorry, but haven't they been pretty quiet since they disappeared?"

"For now," Ross interjected from his seat on the end. "But it's only a matter of time before they do something catastrophic."

"Catastrophic?" The woman echoed, shaking her head with a scoff. "Don't we seem to be exaggerating this just a little?"

Tony scoffed and stood up from where he'd been sitting on the corner of his desk, turning his back on the projections as he reached over towards the bottle of scotch sitting in a glass dish. "So basically, you're just gonna sit there on your asses and twiddle your thumbs hoping for them to blow up a city block or derail a subway train so you can finally make your move and hop on out there with your butterfly nets?" He poured some of the amber liquid into a glass and turned back around, swishing it around for a moment before taking a sip. "Gotta say, not a great plan from where I'm standing."

One of the holographic men straightened out his jacket. "Things would go much smoother if you were to assist us."

Tony lifted a finger away from the glass and pointed it towards the projection. "Nuh-uh. See that's not gonna happen. You know why?"

The other man shook his head and lifted a hand in exasperation. "Do enlighten us, Mr. Stark."

The billionaire took a step closer. "Cause while you all are running around New York City playing a nation-wide game of Where's Waldo with a who's who list of the FBI's most wanted, _I'm_ trying to forget about them. No, better yet. _I'm_ trying to shape up the Accords. You know...the job _you_ should be doing?"

Ross narrowed his eyes and sneered, the look reflecting perfectly through the pixels. "The Accords are perfect the way they are," he snapped, failing to notice the sidelong glances the other senators threw his way.

"The Accords are a ticking time bomb created with a chemical combination of paranoia, fear and bruised feelings," Rhodey muttered from where he stood with his arms folded along the back wall. Tony turned and lifted his glass to the man, Rhodes rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the gesture.

Nevertheless, the Secretary didn't back down. "Last I checked, your signatures were on those papers."

"Yeah, cause it was either a pen or a prison cell," Tony growled, taking another swig of his drink before setting it down on the table and letting out a small sigh, lifting a hand to rub the bridge of his nose as he suddenly began to feel how much two hours of sleep could mess you up.

"Look," he started softly, dropping his hand again as he stared down the senators. "I understand what you're trying to do, what the _Accords_ are trying to do. And I still believe that we need something like those Accords. Something to hold us and people like us accountable. But the Accords that we have right now are associated with the disbandment of the most recognizable group of superheroes out there."

Ross let out a small chuckle. "I wouldn't hold yourself on too high of a pedestal, Stark."

A flare of heat ignited in the billionaire. _This prick_... "Okay, you know what-!"

Before he could say anything though, Rhodey was grabbing onto his sleeve and pulling him back, grip on his wrist tight and grounding. Tony glared up at his friend, only for Rhodey to stand his ground. It was hard to miss the bags under the billionaire's eyes or the deepening wrinkles on his face, letting the colonel know just how close to the end of his rope his friend was.

Still...pissing off Ross was the last thing any of them needed. The look he shot Tony said it all, the billionaire taking another second to glare at the ground before shutting his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, releasing it again after a moment before twisting back around on his heel.

Ross opened his mouth once more and with the look on his face, it wasn't going to be anything good leaving his mouth. Thankfully, Tony noticed this and shot off right away. "I'm not excusing them," he started, effectively cutting the man off. "Not even a little bit. But no new superheroes are gonna want to sign something they associate with the Avengers breaking up," he said.

The senators glanced over at each other before seeming to individually mull over what the billionaire was saying. Ross glared over at them but said nothing either.

"So no. I'm _not_ gonna help you find those assholes. I'm not going to _stop_ you, that's for sure. You can do whatever you want. Chase them, jail them, heck, you can blow them into last year and I won't care," he scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "It's the least they deserve." His tone shifted at that, both Rhodey and Pepper sharing looks behind his back.

"But I'm not going to help. cause I'm dealing with something bigger here. Something that will _hopefully_ prevent this in the future. Cause right now, the Accords are _shit._ At best, those things are in Stage 1 of what will no doubt be a long and grueling process that I have the benefit of looking forward to."

Once more he turned to the glass on the table and lifted it into the air. "So...if we're done here, I have your job to do," he toasted with a smirk before taking another sip.

The three senators all displayed varying looks of uncomfortableness, frustration, uncertainty or a combination of all three. They shared looks with one another before the woman spoke up once more. "That is all, Mr. Stark," she said, removing the glasses from her face. "But this conversation isn't over. And you can rest assured we will be discussing this further, especially next week when Mr. Secretary accompanies us to visit your Tower."

"Joy." The man deadpanned with a cock of his eyebrows and another swig of his drink.

Rhodey nudged the man once more before turning towards the projections. "We'll see you then."

With that, the projections slowly began to fade down into the floor, the glass cases physically displaying the images sinking into their respective slots. However, the person Tony wanted gone the most had elected to extend his chat.

"So you don't know where they are?" Something about his tone of voice made the billionaire suspect Ross already believed he knew the answer. Nevertheless, Tony would sooner die before giving the man any sort of satisfaction. "You know, they do say hearing loss is a side effect of old age so don't feel too bad about it."

"Tony." Rhodey sighed, a hint of warning in his tone.

Ross, however, was not fazed by the jab. "Cut the crap, Stark. I know you could find them if you wanted to." The man accused, face scrunching slightly as his eyes narrowed.

Tony rolled his eyes and set the glass down, folding his arms. "1) they have more than one capable super-spy who I'm pretty sure need to take basic classes in how to stay off the grid if they wanna graduate from whatever assassins university they come from. 2) And this is a big one... **I don't care."**

Behind him, Tony could practically _feel_ Pepper and Rhodey throwing him exasperated, agitated looks. Ross, on the other hand, didn't seem all too fazed. In fact, a smirk was beginning to spread across his lips, a look that made Tony wanna figure out the math on how to slap a holographic projection.

"You will," Ross scoffed from his seat in whatever cave he usually crawled to whenever he wasn't trying to blast Tony's ass off. "Once they start to wreak havoc on this city, you'll wish you'd helped us."

He rose up from his chair and folded his arms behind his back, eyes growing darker if such a thing were possible. "Those people are dangerous. They're a menace to the nation and to this government and they must be stopped by whatever means necessary."

The two men locked eyes with each other, neither saying anything for a moment as their gazes held tight, an internal battle of wills as they stared each other down. Tony could feel his hands clenching and unclenching around his arms from where they were crossed over his chest. _To hell with this asshole._

"Well, whatever means those happen to be...you won't be getting them here." His voice was low. Dangerous.

Ross lifted his chin at that and straightened out his jacket. "We'll see." With that, the projection began to fade, Tony's eyes never leaving the glass as he watched each and every particle dissipate.

"I guess we will, won't we?"

As soon as the glass disappeared in its slot with the others, Tony twisted around on his heel and let out a haggard sigh, dropping down into the chair behind his desk. "Jesus Christ. I need a Popsicle."

Pepper walked over, patting the man on the shoulder as Rhodey rubbed the back of his neck. "One week, huh?" the woman sighed. "Guess we're gonna have to Ross-proof this place."

Tony shook his head. "How do we do that? Put Avengers merchandise on all the walls of this place? Cause I'm pretty sure I have some Hawkeye mugs and a couple of Captain America bobbleheads that we can put on the desks down in the offices."

The others smirked at that, a new voice cutting through the space. "Captain America bobbleheads? Now those I gotta see."

All three of them turned around and whipped their heads towards the doorway, Natasha leaning casually against the frame with a smirk spreading across her lips. Tony blew out a breath and placed a hand to his heart. "Fucking...god, Romanoff. What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, trying and failing to get his heartbeat back to a normal rhythm.

"Don't you have some government assholes you should be avoiding?" Rhodey asked with a cocked brow as he watched the woman walk further into the room. "I feel like it's probably _not_ the best idea to come over here when we're literally _video-chatting_ the very people who wanna put your head on a spike and pin it outside the capital building."

The woman didn't seem all that fazed by the graphic imagery as she shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? I'm a spy. I like to have all the information," she said as she took a seat at the conference table, propping her feet up onto the surface.

"Right. So you're here to know what _he_ knows." Tony muttered from his chair, one fist propped up against his cheek as he glared lazily at the other woman.

Said woman either didn't notice the look or - the more believable option - she just didn't care to respond to it. "And right now, he knows nothing."

"Mm-hmmm."

Pepper and Rhodey once again shared knowing looks before Pepper blew a somewhat amused huff from her lips, patting the side of Tony's cheek. "Well...we'll just leave you guys to it."

Tony straightened up at that, throwing the others incredulous looks. "Hold up. What? You're abandoning me with her?" He asked, gesturing wildly at the woman who still hadn't moved from her relaxed position. If anything, she simply raised a brow at the comment.

"You want that Popsicle or not?" Rhodey muttered.

"...I _do_ want that Popsicle."

Rhodey smirked as both he and Pepper moved towards the exit. "Then have fun. Now stop complaining or I'll bring you back a grape-flavored one."

And with that, the two left and both Tony and Natasha were alone. For a moment, Tony said nothing, simply content with glaring after his two retreating friends before he let out an annoyed sigh and dropped his head, swiveling his chair so that he was now facing Natasha. After a second, he lifted his gaze and threw the woman a disgruntled look. "What?" he asked with a grunt.

Natasha seemed to pick up on the subtext behind the word as she gave another small shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing. Just checking up on you."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed as he stood up once more and reached over towards the now-empty glass, pouring himself another drink. "Save the spiel. You're just here to make sure your asses are still covered." He lifted the glass and gestured it in her direction.

"I'm multitasking."

Tony huffed, bringing the glass to his lips. "Yeah, you're great at that."

Natasha watched him swig down a gulp of the liquid, Tony purposefully avoiding looking at her so he didn't have to see whatever expression she was making at the action. After a moment of silence where Tony sat down on the corner of the desk and placed the glass next to him, Natasha removed her feet from the top of the table and leaned forward in her chair. "How are you?" she asked quietly.

"Aside from the large Ross-shaped tumor growing on the side of my head...pretty damn good I must say."

The woman stood up and began to mill about the room, glancing at files and papers strewn about the tables. "You getting enough sleep?" she asked, purposefully avoiding the man's gaze.

Tony tapped his fingers against the glass, familiar burn of annoyance flaring in his chest at the question. "Don't see what that has to do with anything," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at the assassin. Did she really think he didn't know what she was trying to do?

She gave a curt nod of her head, picking up one of the nearby files as she opened it up and began to flip through the pages, once again avoiding the man's gaze. "And you're still drinking-"

"Natasha!" Tony snapped, slamming the glass down onto the table, the woman stoically lifting up her head. "If you're just gonna stand there and criticize me like your little war criminal buddies _love_ to do so fucking much, then there's the door," he growled.

The woman set the papers down and took a step closer. The man scoffed and turned his head away as the woman rested a hand on his shoulder. She didn't wanna say it hurt when she felt him tense underneath her fingers. But it did. "I'm just worried about you, Tony."

He lifted his eyes to meet hers for a moment before shrugging out of her grasp and standing up, walking past her. "Well don't be. I got plenty of people who are actually _around_ for that, thanks," he said, grabbing the papers and files that Natasha had been looking at before, stacking them into piles on the conference table. He stopped moving for a second, eyes glaring down at the polished surface for a moment before he started back up again, tone slightly different.

"You'd better stay away from the tower next week. It'll look bad for me if Ross sees you in your pajamas strolling around the kitchen with a smoothie and bunny slippers." He said offhandedly, shrugging past the woman with files in hand, but Natasha noticed the hint of genuine concern lacing the words.

She let a small smile form on her face. "I'll be sure to take that into consideration."

Tony glanced back at her before huffing and continuing to put the files away into the cabinet. "Just...don't make things any more difficult for me than they already are. I know how much you guys _love_ to do that so if you could resist the gleeful urges you must get...I'd appreciate it."

He closed up the cabinet door and plopped back into his chair with a loud sigh, twisting it around so that he could look at her once more. "Now, was that all or did you have any other annoying little topics you wanted to run by me?" he muttered.

With that, Natasha felt her stomach twist ever so slightly. It wasn't that she was nervous. Just that she knew this conversation could quickly take a turn for the worst with what she was about to bring up. Still, it needed to be said. She needed to know.

Tony noticed a slight shift in the woman's posture, her usual confident stance deflating ever so slightly. It was almost unnoticeable, as he was sure the woman wanted it to be. But the man was used to dealing with his micro-mannerisms enough to pick up on when others were doing the same thing. He felt his stomach twist slightly at that, but opted to settle it instead of just leaving the room entirely as he probably should have done.

"No, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Hearing her put it into words, the man stared at her for a moment before letting out another sigh and lifting his hand, gesturing for her to continue.

The woman hesitated for just a moment before speaking up once again. "I wanted to talk to you about Spider-Man."

Instantly, Tony had to fight to keep his face passive, his fists quickly tightening their hold on the arms of his chair as a shiver ran up his spine. He was sure Natasha had picked up on the slight changes, but if she did, she didn't mention it. "What about him," he responded, noticing his tone was a bit colder than before.

Natasha leaned up on the corner of the conference table, arms stretched out beside her as her palms lay flat on the smooth surface. "I just wanted to see how much you actually know about him. I mean, I know you recruited him and all that, but that's as far as my information goes."

 _And that's how I like it._ Tony thought to himself, having to physically bite his tongue to keep from spitting it in the assassin's face. He knew she'd already had an encounter with Spider-Man back in Germany. And he also knew she _now_ liked to see Peter whenever they were both at the Tower. However, that didn't mean Tony was just going to open the door for her to sidle up next to _both_ of them.

Tony knew Nat. He knew what she could do. And if she spent any more time around Spider-Man, then it wouldn't take long for her to figure out the secret between him and Peter; that they were one and the same. And if _Peter_ found out that the reason she knew was cause _Tony_ hadn't done enough to stop her...well, the billionaire wasn't about to let this backstabbing double-agent mess up what he was trying to accomplish here.

If she did that, then she could practically kiss their "friendship" goodbye.

Of course, Tony being the suave little shit-eater that he was didn't let any of this show on his face as he simply twisted and turned in his swivel chair, hands folding over his lap. "Why the sudden interest?" he asked, eyes zeroing in on Natasha's face, ready to pick up on whatever micro-expressions she displayed.

The woman seemed to think about it for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. "No particular reason. I've just seen him swinging around the city sometimes. Wanted to know a little more about him."

 _Yeah, right_. Tony scoffed to himself, quickly feeling that biting resentment for the woman beginning to bubble back into place. "Yeah, well that ain't happening this time. I know you like to have all your little ducks in a row when it comes to smuggling information out of unsuspecting victims but you aren't getting anything here, alright?"

"Do you know his identity?"

"I - are you even paying attention to me, Nat?! I said no. I'm not telling you anything!"

The women put on a small smile, raising her hands up innocently as she smirked at him. Tony clenched his fists at the look. "Alright, alright. If _you_ don't wanna share anything with me, I get it."

However placating the words were _intended_ to be, Tony didn't pick up on any of it. He knew that tone. He knew the meaning _behind_ her words. He knew _her._ He knew what she was gonna try and do and he couldn't let that happen. So with that, the man slowly lifted himself out of the chair and took a steadying breath, pointing a shaky finger in her direction.

"Natasha...I know what you're thinking and you better stop right this fucking second. Don't you even _think_ about looking into him, alright. It's none of your business," he growled out at her.

At that, Natasha's eyes narrowed and her arms folded over her chest. "I think you made it our business when you recruited him to fight in Germany." She shook her head and let out a small scoff." I already know the identities of all the other supers in this city. Why should he be any different. Just cause he's like, your little personal plaything at the moment? Your newest obsession?"

She slapped her arms down in exasperation. "Besides, what the harm of me knowing more anyway? As I said, I already know the identities of the other Supers around and I haven't sent out any kill hits on them yet," she smirked, hoping the look would mask the feelings of hurt that bubbled in her chest at what the man was insinuating. Did he really think she was going to hurt Spider-Man?

However, Tony wasn't about to budge. Not on this. Not with Peter.

"Nat...listen to me. You _cannot_ go looking into him, alright?"

"Why not?" she grunted, Tony realizing she wouldn't let it go unless he gave her an actual reason.

He balled up his hands and pressed them to his forehead. "Y-you...you just...you just can't alright?!" He shook his head and dropped his hands back onto his hips, sucking in a breath as he tried to find a way to explain himself. But just what was he supposed to say? _Hey, sorry Nat. I can't tell you about this because I promised Spider-Man that I'd protect this secret of his at all costs and I really, really need this kid to trust me for a whole other set of reasons that I won't tell you cause If I'm being honest, I really don't trust you and doubt I ever will again!_

That last thought made him pause for just a second. Did he really believe that? Is that really what he thought? He lifted his gaze and stared back at the woman, Nat seeming to notice the slight change in his eyes as her hardened expression softened ever so slightly as she sighed, lowering her gaze to the ground.

She seemed just as tired of the fighting as he did.

Tony glanced away, eyes narrowing in thought. He didn't know what was going to happen with Nat. To be honest, he didn't know what was going to happen with _any_ of the others, or if he even _wanted_ anything to happen. Still...there was a small part of him that enjoyed seeing the woman, that missed stumbling into the kitchen at 3 in the morning only to have her sitting there too, both victims of early morning insomnia. He missed sitting with her in the silence, neither asking the other if they wanted to talk about it. They never did.

His mind drifted back to when Natasha had first reappeared in the lab a few weeks ago, her words from before ringing out in his ears. " _I know it will take a while. I know it'll be hard. But...I hope with time...you'll be able to forgive me."_

He lifted his gaze back over to her, Nat meeting his stare as well. For a moment, neither of them said anything, eyes scanning each other's faces for any hints as to what they were thinking. Finally, Tony approached.

"Listen, you wanted me to trust you, right?" he started slowly, voice softer than before. "Then do this for me now."

Nat opened her mouth, only for Tony to cut her off with a shake of his head. "Look, I can't explain all of this to you right now, alright? It's just...this guy, Spider-Man...if anymore people find out who he is...it isn't like other secret identities. He's not just wearing the mask to separate superhero from normal life. This is a matter of life or death."

"Oh, come on Tony-"

"I'm serious," he stressed, reaching out to grasp onto the woman's shoulders. For a moment, he expected her to rip out of his grasp and knee him in the gut, only for her to widen her eyes and stand rigid. "Listen, Natasha...please. Please don't look into him. Don't try to figure out who he is, don't even _wonder_ who he is. I'm being serious here. This isn't for me. This isn't some little power trip I'm making here. This is for him. This is for his protection." He stared back at her, hoping his desperation was evident enough to get through to her.

"Please...do this for me."

Natasha couldn't say anything for a moment. All she could do was stare back into the man's eyes, which nearly oozed their silent plea. Her heart beat erratically in her chest, the only grounding feel being the grip Tony had on her shoulders. Not painfully tight, but present nonetheless.

Honestly, her reasons for wanting to know more about Spider-Man hadn't been what she'd told Tony as he'd most likely figured out. In actuality, the only reason she wanted to know more about the kid was to observe. And not observe Spider-Man. She wanted to observe Tony.

From the second he'd told her to stay away from him, Natasha had known the Super obviously meant something to the billionaire. Now, what that was, she'd been unsure. After all, was he really just looking out for the kid or was he still just angry at her?

She wanted to know what the kid meant to him. She wanted to know just how important this hero was to Tony. How much the billionaire would do for him. She needed to know just how much of a close eye she'd need to keep on this kid. After all, if he really meant a lot to the billionaire, then she couldn't exactly just let him roam around the city going after thugs and criminals without checking up on him.

But now, seeing just how desperate he looked, just how scared he'd become at the prospect of her using her skills to find out who he was. If she were being honest with herself, it only made her more curious as to who this mystery super was behind the mask. Not just anyone could get Tony Stark to care about them this much. After all, the only other people Tony was _this_ protective over was Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. And maybe that new intern of his.

But Natasha couldn't question the look in the man's eyes, in his face. He obviously wasn't doing this just to fuck with her. He genuinely cared about this...Spider-Man. So that meant she did too.

And that was enough for her.

"Really means that much to you?" It wasn't really a question, but she let it hang out there nonetheless.

Tony stared back at her, dropping his hands. "You have no idea."

The billionaire watched as she sighed and took a step back. "Fine...but I can't say I'll be able to control the others if they get any suspicions."

He shrugged. "That's fine. You're really the one one who might be able to undo the precautions I've already taken to hide his identity," he murmured, thinking back to all the firewalls and viruses he'd created in order to protect any and all information about either Peter Parker or Spider-Man on his servers.

"You flatter me."

Tony scoffed at that and turned away, moving to sit on top of the desk once again, resting his elbows on the tops of his knees as he glanced over at Natasha, suddenly feeling much more tired than before if such a thing were possible. "You'd better get out of here. It won't be safe to hang around for the next couple of days," he murmured.

Natasha couldn't help but smile a bit as she noticed the gentle tones in the man's voice, no malice or snark present. "Yeah, yeah," she said, waving her hand in the air dismissively. "I got it." She brushed the hair out of her face and made her way over towards the door, hand gripping the frame as she turned back around. "I'll see you, Tony." She called before walking out into the hallway, a full-blown smile making its way onto her lips as she heard the man's response, low and quiet.

"...sure."

Tony stared after the woman for a moment before sighing and running his hands down his face, letting out a load and tiresome groan as he leaned back and laid down on the surface of his desk, papers fluttering to the ground at the movement, but he didn't really care. God, he was so tired. His talk with Ross had already drained him of whatever energy reserves he'd stored up and Nat had basically siphoned off whatever extra he'd had.

However, no matter how tired he felt, the man knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. He'd crawl into bed, stare up at the ceiling and end up in the lab after ten minutes, wasting the rest of the night away tinkering on useless inventions. Still, the thought of working alone in the cold lab for the next few hours made his stomach churn again. He couldn't tell why. Usually, tinkering was the best for his insomnia, but today he didn't seem...in the mood for it.

Still, that left him with the rest of the night to fill with...something. Something to keep his mind busy and occupied.

He blew out a breath and turned his head, glancing over at the clock on the wall. It only took a moment to trace the two hands and read the time, the man blinking up at the ticking mechanism before he slowly lifted himself back into a sitting position. He narrowed his eyes at the clock before lifting his head. "Hey, Fri...today's Saturday, right?"

" _That is correct, boss. Saturday, the 16th."_

Tony said nothing, staring at the clock for a moment longer before a smirk began to spread across his face. Quickly forming up a plan in his head, the man hopped off the desk and grabbed his suit jacket hanging off one of the backs of the chairs, exiting the room and entering the common room next door, where Rhodey, Pepper and Happy were all sitting and talking quietly, each munching on different-colored Popsicles.

Tony walked over and plucked the extra Rhodey was holding out of his hands, discarding of the wrapper before popping it into his mouth. The others glanced over at him and cocked their heads at the mischievous expression morphing onto his face.

This wasn't good.

He pressed the Popsicle into the side of his cheek, picking his sunglasses out of his suit pocket before perching them onto his face. "You guys wanna stretch your legs?"

They each shared confused looks as Tony grinned.

"I know a place..."

* * *

 **Saturday - April 16, 2016**

 **Upper East Side - Lake Hill Convention Center**

 **07:24 p.m.**

" _Which of the following was NOT a major trade route for the African slave exports between 1500 and 1800?"_

 _ **DING**!_

 _"Midtown Tech?"_

"South Africa"

" _Correct."_

Grins were passed around the table as Abe retracted his hand from the button, winking back at his teammates.

For the past hour and a half, both Midtown and George St Luke has been going back and forth, three completed rounds of questions with the fourth and final coming to a close. In the crowd, Peter could make out May sitting on the edge of her seat, biting her nails like she usually did whenever she was nervous and nobody was around to slap her hand away. She looked more nervous than Peter was, to be honest.

Michelle glared over at the others from her seat at the front of the table, the team quickly falling back into their poised positions as more and more questions were thrown their way, the clock before them slowly winding down.

 _"The Greek historian who offered valuable insights about Africans in the Nile region's diets was?"_

 _ **DING**!_

 _"George St. Luke?"_

 _"_ Herodotus"

" _Correct."_

" _The German author of Philosophy of History that served as a source of Western fantasies about Africa was?"_

 _ **DING**!_

 _"Midtown Tech?"_

 _"_ George Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel"

" _Correct."_

 _"Scenes of violent death dissolve into landscape in the 1993-94 animated drawings of?"_

 ** _DING_**

 _"George St. Luke?"_

"Nam June Paik"

 _"Incorrect. Midtown Tech?_

"William Kentridge"

 _"Correct"_

Peter couldn't help but grin as Charles pumped his fist underneath the table, Ned and Sally grinning right along with him right as time was called. All fourteen competitors lifted their heads at the noise, eyes drifting over to the Officiator as she adjusted the microphone attached to the podium in front of her. Adjusting her glasses she leaned closer. "That concludes the fourth portion of the free-response questions. With Midtown leading by five points."

Grins and silent whoops were passed throughout the table as Michelle readied to stand and walk up to the podium, assuming that meant the competition was finished, as it usually was. Four rounds of free-response _was_ the traditional format.

However, all seven of the Midtown students shared confused looks as the woman continued. "However, the judges have elected to add one final portion to the competition this year," she started, confused murmurings drifting throughout _all_ of the students now, including those backstage. The Midtown students glanced towards the curtains where Mr. Harrington was standing, the man's face now considerably paler than before.

Nice to see the confidence was there.

"For this final round, which is worth twenty points, teams will choose one of their own players to represent the entire group. The two players chosen, one from each team, will come up and receive the question. They will not be able to receive any help or hints from their teammates, otherwise ending in an immediate disqualification. Whoever answers the question first and correctly will win." She lifted the glasses from her face and placed them down onto the podium. "Any questions?"

Peter glanced around at his teammates, who were all doing the same. What the heck was _this_ all about? They hadn't been prepared for _this._

The woman nodded. "Very well. The question you'll be answering will be centered around..." she trailed off, gesturing towards the curtain behind her as it lifted up, revealing two blank whiteboards positioned behind each of the team tables. "...mathematics. Choose your player wisely, for you will not be able to switch afterward. You have two minutes to discuss and choose. Clock starts now."

Instantly, Peter reared back in his seat as all of his teammates crowded and leaned towards him. "You gotta do this, Pete!" Sally basically crowed, their noses almost touching.

"What?" he nearly shouted, heart leaping into his throat.

"Yeah, man. You're _dominating_ the Algebra and Calculus questions!" Ned beamed, rising up from his chair. "You're perfect for this!" The others nodded along as they pushed in closer.

"I...I-I.."

"Aw, man. We are _so_ gonna win this thing!" Abe cheered.

Charles grinned and nudged Peter with his shoulder. "Yeah, it's practically in the bag, now. We're gonna have to make room for that big fat trophy!"

The teen felt his heart-rate beginning to quicken as all of their eyes seemed to bore into him. He rose up from his own chair as well and raised his hands in a placating manner. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Cindy is just as good at math as I am! Ned too!" he tried, only for the others to groan and shake their heads in response, _including_ Cindy and Ned.

"Please! I'm not _nearly_ as good as you. You're like, on a whole other level, Pete!" The girl scoffed, Ned nodding along as he stepped closer. "Besides, you know I'm more of a computer/physics kind-of guy. But you're knowledge of this crap is _way_ more extensive than mine. Unless that question was _specifically_ physics-based, I'd be lost up there and you know it! All of us would!"

 _"One minute."_

Peter grimaced and took another step back, the others continuing to crowd him nevertheless. "I don't know guys. I mean...what if I mess this up? I might-" he started, only to yelp as he felt something whack him upside the head.

The others quieted down as he turned to face MJ, his face scrunching up in slight indignation as he reached up to rub at the back of his head. "Shut up, nerd. You haven't got a single question wrong all day. You're doing this." she muttered, walking up.

"But-"

She leaned in closer, the others quickly taking a step back out of slight fear. "Your. Doing. This." She said, leaving little room for arguments. Peter felt any and all retorts die in his throat as he let out a small sigh, practically feeling his back bump up against the metaphorical corner he was being pushed into.

Perhaps MJ saw the look of resigned distress crossing the boy's face, for she let out a small breath and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're gonna be fine. You're one of the strongest players _on_ this team. Just do what you've been doing all day up there and we shouldn't have any problems."

Peter lifted his eyes to look at her, taking in a breath as he let a small smile spread onto his face.

"But you'd better win this thing or I'm gonna kill you."

With that, she shoved him hard towards the podium, the teen tripping slightly over the force and slightly over the words. _That wasn't very reassuring._

Still, when MJ said you were gonna do something, there wasn't really any way to get out of it. Swallowing what could have possibly been bile, Peter stole another glance back towards the table, most of his teammates giving him thumbs up (MJ threw him a middle finger), before gulping and walking slowly towards the podium.

It wasn't that Peter wasn't used to his teammates relying on him. After all, they'd been relying on his all day. They relied on him for every meet, every tournament. He knew they trusted him, and for the most part, he was alright with them.

But this...this was a whole other ballpark. Before, Peter had been relying on _them_ just as much as they'd been relying on him. It was a shared burden, a passable load. It was a _team_ , after all. This...this put everything on _him._ No backup, no crutches, no assistance, just him. It was as if his team wasn't even there.

No, actually that would have been better. At least if his team wasn't there, he wouldn't have to worry about letting anybody else down. But now...

HE stole another glance towards his teammates, who were still grinning wide from ear to ear.

Now he had to win this. Not for him, but for them. And the thought of letting them down only made the bile return.

 _"Time is up. Would the two chosen contestants please make their way towards the podium."_

 _Swallow it. Swallow it now!_ Quickly gulping down the acidic grossness, Peter took another breath and walked over, glancing over at the other kid. It was a girl with short brown hair tied back into a ponytail and thick round glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She was taller than Peter, her green Decathlon jacket bunching up around her elbows.

The low murmuring that had been passing through the crowd during the two minute deliberation quickly quieted down as the Officiator spoke once more. If the two of you would please make your way over towards your boards, please. There you will find a marker for you to do whatever work you deem necessarily."

She paused for a moment to let them both make their way over before continuing. "Also by your sides, you should see a stand with another buzzer on top. When you think you've figured out the answer, buzz in. Whoever buzzes in first with the correct answer wins for their team," she said once again, as if she hadn't just explained the rules five minutes ago.

" _If the two of you are ready..."_

The girl from St Luke gave a firm nod of her head, Peter saying nothing as he continued to stare at the clean white surface of the board, mind seeming to run at a million miles per minute as he milled through all the possible questions they could ask.

He took another breath, forcing himself to stop as he narrowed his eyes and tightened his fists.

This wasn't training. This wasn't fighting or working or even socializing. This was math. Numbers. He knew numbers. He knew how to work numbers. This was what he did. This was what he'd been doing all his life. This was where he thrived, where he found his element, where he was comfortable. This was the one thing he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he could do.

 _(We aren't working meaning you aren't of use to me...)_

This was there he proved his father wrong.

Charles was right. This thing _was_ in the bag.

" _Midtown Tech?"_

"I'm ready."

The woman nodded. " _Alright. The final challenge of the night begins now."_ And with that plus the press of a button, the auditorium projector screen lit up with the image of an equation.

 **F(x) =** **-1^(x2) X ln[1** **/(1 + t^2) dt]**

 **SOLVE FOR F(x)**

In the back of his head, Peter could head his teammates groaning, whispering about how they hadn't gone over math like that or that a question like this wasn't fair or that nobody could get this or something like that. In all honesty, despite his hearing, Peter didn't really absorb any of it. His eyes were simply glued to the projector screen.

Across from him, the St Luke girl had paled, taking one look at the equation before glancing back at her teammates with a look of panic, which was mirrored in her group as well. She turned back around and stared at the whiteboard before her, shaky hand reaching out for the marker as she began to write the problem out on the board.

As she worked on breaking down the problem, Peter still hadn't moved. He hadn't walked towards the board. He hadn't written anything down. Heck, he hadn't even picked up his marker.

A minute passed of him simply staring up at the equation. A low murmur began to drift through the crowd, people leaning over to ask their neighbors either about the problem, about who they thought was going to win, or about why the boy wasn't even moving.

MJ narrowed her eyes as she stared over at Peter, ignoring her teammates as they spoke.

"Uh...why isn't he moving?"

"I don't know. Maybe he just doesn't know how to set it up."

"He could still write it down or something. Maybe that'll give him something."

"Cut him some slack. None of us could figure that thing out. At least not as fast as they're expecting us to."

"Quiet." Michelle hissed at that, the other quickly quieting as they glanced over at her before moving their eyes back over to Peter.

The girl for George St. Luke continued to write across her board, which was filling up with squiggles, lines, dashes, numbers and just about anything and everything she could think of. As she moved farther and farther down the board, her numbers seemed to get more and more precise.

The Officiator glanced between the two students with a confused frown and a furrowed brow. Was she missing something here?

St. Luke's girl stopped writing, stepping back from the board with a scrunched face, pressing her hand to her cheek in thought as she stared at her work, shaking her head in confusion.

Peter still hasn't moved.

" _Midtown Tech?"_ The woman called, wondering if the boy simply was stumped. She glanced over towards the boy's teammates, who were all shrugging their shoulders, sans MJ and Ned.

" _Do you forfeit the question?"_

The teen still didn't respond. He didn't even turn around to look at her. She turned back towards St. Luke who was still staring dumbfounded at the messy board. The woman adjusted her glasses once more. "I need an answer, teams."

The young girl let out a groan as she slapped her hands against her thighs and turned around with a disgruntled look of disappointment. "I don't k-"

"F(x) = du/dx = 2x[1/(1+x^4)]"

The auditorium fell silent as every wide eye turned towards Peter, who was now looking towards the Officiator for confirmation.

MJ smirked. Ned snickered under his breath.

The woman at the podium stared at the boy blinking up at her before glancing down at the card in her hands before adjusting her glasses and shakily clearing her throat. "T-that is correct," she breathed, a loud murmur rushing through the audience and over Peter's teammates as they leaned forward to hear her next words.

"Midtown Tech wins!"

Roars roared through the crowd as they rose up from their seats to give applause. Peter barely had any time to turn around before he was being barreled over by his teammates, who practically dog-piled him as they screamed in his ear and howled in joy. Despite the fact that he was acutely aware of each and every touch, Peter couldn't help the smile that spread onto his face as his friends squished their cheeks against his and laughed in his ears.

With a grunt and a reminder to restrain his strength, the teen pushed them off of him before lifting his head and noticing MJ off to the side, arms folded across her chest as she smirked down at them. Charles and Abe grinned at each other before reaching up and each grabbing onto one of her hands, dragging her down to the ground with them.

Her eyes widened slightly before she found herself crumpling on the ground with her teammates as they wrapped their arms around her and all but forced her into their dogpile. Peter couldn't help but giggle at the look of constipation making its way onto her face as she tried not to smile. Behind him, he could hear Flash running up and down the stage, holding the trophy up above his head in celebration.

The others couldn't even get mad, they were so happy.

Shoulders shaking with chuckles, Peter craned his neck to scan the crowd, eyes falling on May as she stood from her seat and waved at him. Seeing as how his arms were being pinned down by the bodies of his teammates, the teen could do little more than smile back at her.

It seemed to be enough as she gave him a thumbs-up, her face falling slightly as she gestured towards the back door. Peter gave a nod of his head and a reassuring smile. May had already taken enough time out of her night shift to be here. He couldn't take up any more of her time.

After a few more minutes of trying and failing to calm his classmates down, the team shook hands with the Officiator and the other team, took pictures and made their way offstage, all smiles and laughs.

"Dude, that stunt you pulled is going down in the history books as the greatest feat of all time!" Ned practically gushed, spinning around on his heel to face his friend.

Charles laughed and pressed a hand to his forehead. "You didn't even write anything down, man! You're like superhuman or something!"

"And that lady's face when you just blurted out the answer. Right after she asked about forfeit? Priceless!" Cindy howled, eyes scrunching as she wiped away a mock tear, Peter nudging her with his shoulder as the others all smiled.

Peter yelped, however as he felt a hand slap his head once more, rolling his eyes as Michelle came into view, trophy in hand after having wrangled it out of Flash's. "Yeah, yeah. Let's not get too excited here. After all, now that we've won this thing, people are gonna be expecting big things from us. So now we gotta start prepping for next year's match cause I am _not_ losing."

Ned placed a hand on her shoulder. "Aw, come on, MJ. We just won Regionals! I think we can afford to take a break."

"Ned right, MJ." Mr. Harrington called, walking over with a grin. "You guys really worked yourselves out there. Peter, that was incredible, kid. Great job out there. But you kids more than deserve a break after all that," the man said as he patted Sally and Ned on the shoulders.

Out past the curtains leading back to the main hall, loud voices and laughs could be heard behind the curtains, the teens groaning ever so slightly at the noises. "Man, my parents are never gonna let me get out of here, we'll be taking so many pictures," Cindy muttered, Abe nodding along with her. "I know right. They're gonna call all of my relatives over this."

The others began to gripe about similar issues, Peter nodding along with a couple of chuckles here and there as he heard of some extents parents were willing to go to boast about their children to others.

The teen stole a small glance over towards the curtain, where anxious friends and family waited to greet their kids. Peter felt his smile fall slightly at that, knowing he'd have nobody to go to once they walked outside. Then again, that was usually the case with these meets so he couldn't say he wasn't used to it by now.

He turned back towards the others, only to notice Flash's eyes on him. And from the look on the bully's face, he'd seen Peter's expression. The boy smirked at him and placed a hand on his hip. "What's the matter, Parker? Sad your little buddy _Tony Star_ k isn't here to congratulate you?" he asked, though the usual levels of spite and malice seemed to have been dialed back ever so slightly, seeing as how the boy was still pumped over their win to be too much of an ass.

Peter rolled his eyes and glanced away, the others scrunching up their noses, about to tell the boy off for trying to put a damper on their celebrating, only for a new voice to beat them to it.

"Seems reasonable. I mean, I assume anyone who knows me gets depressed when I'm not around to brighten up their lives." All seven kids plus teacher turned to stare as Tony Stark strode over, removing his sunglasses from his face as he rested his hands inside the pockets of his suit pants. He also had a...Popsicle stick in his mouth?

"Or is that just Happy?" he asked, glancing behind him at the other three who followed, including Colonel Rhodes, Pepper Potts, and Happy Hogan, the latter throwing his boss an unamused look.

Peter felt as though his eyes were about to pop out of his skull as he stared, mouth agape. "M...M-M...Mr...Ssss...St-st..." He stuttered, seeming to literally puff smoke from his ears as his brain caught fire. The billionaire couldn't help but smirk at the boy's reaction as he placed his sunglasses on the perch of the teen's nose, pushing them up into place as Peter's face remained slack.

"Nice job up there, kiddo. Gotta say, your ability to leave people speechless almost rivaled mine for a second. Just for a second, though mind you," he smirked, patting the teen on the shoulder as he took out the Popsicle stick and flicked it onto the ground. "But I knew I hired you for a reason."

Pepper reached forward and pinched the boy's cheek. "Peter you were amazing out there, sweetie," she gushed while Rhodey clapped him on the back. "Very impressive, little man."

The other students had yet to say anything, all of them holding expressions that matched Peter's to a tee, except MJ of course. The girl simply stared at the man with a bored look, rolling her eyes at her teammates' reactions.

Flash blinked up at him before raising up a shaky finger and pointing it in his direction. "You're Tony Stark."

Tony raised a brow at the boy and felt a humored huff fall from his lips, Rhodes scoffing behind him while Pepper and Happy continued to check over their shoulders, seemingly scanning for anybody with a camera out.

"That I am, child I don't know nor care to find out about," he replied, MJ finally giving some sort of response as she smirked.

"You're Tony Stark."

The man shook his head and lifted his head towards Mr. Harrington. "Hey, teach. You don't mind if I take Pete here off your hands right?"

The teacher hesitated for a moment before shaking himself out of his stupor and letting out a nervous chuckle. "No...o-of course not, Mr. Stark...sir."

"Great." With that, he latched onto Peter's wrist and began to guide the teen farther away from the still speechless group. Glancing back, Peter gestured for both MJ and Ned to follow him, the former having to push the latter forward, seeing as how the boy had yet to speak or move. Or breath probably if his red face gave any indication.

"That was Tony Stark!"

Peter tried to block out the sounds of his classmates practically vibrating behind him as he reached up and removed the sunglasses from his face, turning up to face the billionaire. "W...w-what are you doing here?" he breathed, blinking up with wide eyes.

The man scoffed and accepted the glasses back. "Well I don't know if you've ever done this before but when you invite someone somewhere, chances are high that they're gonna show up."

Behind the man, Peter could see Pepper and Rhodey smiling at him, Happy continuing to gruffly keep watch for paparazzi hounds. The teen let out a small breath as he felt his face scrunch slightly. "Well I get that. It's just...I...I didn't think you'd actually come."

"Why? Think I got better things to do?"

"Well... _yeah._ "

The man waved a hand dismissively. "Please, I _live_ for these things. Every Saturday night you'll see me scouring the streets of New York desperately searching for any Decathlon tournaments to pop into."

Peter scoffed and shook his head, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck as a lopsided grin made its way onto his face. "I mean it. Why would you waste time on something like this when you _obviously_ have more important things to deal with?"

Tony paused for a minute before smiling and bopping Peter gently on the head with the folded up sunglasses. "Cause you wanted me to, kiddo."

Peter opened his mouth to say something, only for the words to die in his throat as a smile formed on his face. Tony smiled back, only to blink rapidly and clear his throat, roughly patting Peter's shoulders as he averted his gaze and stared at the two other teens behind his intern. "So, you gonna introduce me to your little nerd friends, kid?"

Pepper and Rhodey rolled their eyes at the not-so-great cover-up.

Peter straightened up at that and turned to stare at his friends. "R-right, right. Mr. Stark, this is M-"

"I can introduce _myself_ thank you very much, Loser," the girl muttered, taking a step forward. "It's Michelle. Michelle Jones."

Tony nodded. "So you're MJ."

"To some people."

He smirked. "Well nice to meet you, Michelle," he said as he extended his hand. The girl stared down at it with an unimpressed face before lifting her eyes to throw him a look. _Alright then..._

The billionaire moved to face the other boy, only to grunt as he felt two sweaty hands clasp onto his own, his arm practically being ripped out of its socket as the chubby boy shook his arm up and down. "Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod! Mr. Stark, it is so great to meet you. Peter's told me all about you and I can't believe I'm actually standing here looking at you, talking at you, shaking your hand and everything. I mean it is a dream come true for me I've been waiting for this moment to come ever since Peter told me about you and its everything I dreamed of and more and I just, I can't, I mean I-"

It took both Peter and MJ wrapping their arms around Ned's waist and tugging with all their might to get him to unhook himself from the billionaire's hand, Tony staring with wide eyes as the three teens stepped back, Ned's face red and beaming as the boy grinned. "I can't feel my legs!"

Peter groaned while MJ scoffed in disgust, the former turning back to his boss. "S-sorry about him. He's...well...he's not used to being approached by people like...well, by people like you."

Tony took a breath, shaking his now sore hand as he gripped his wrist. "Uh...no problem. I'll just...have to be prepared next time I see your little friend. Ted, was it?"

"Oh my god! He remembered my name!"

"That's not even - you know what?" Michelle muttered, releasing her hold on the large boy and watching as he crumpled to the ground by her feet.

Tony and Peter watched them before they both shook their heads, the billionaire turning back to the boy. "Anyway, I don't know about you but watching you kick some nerdy butt has made he crave some nutrients. So...ice cream?"

"Now?"

"Either that or next winter. My schedule's pretty booked."

Peter grinned before the smile faltered, his eyes moving towards Pepper and Rhodey. "But...but I thought we were supposed to be lying low. You know, the pictures?"

Rhodey shrugged his shoulders. "We figured the last place the paparazzi would be looking is some random Decathlon tournament so our bets were pretty safe here."

"And out there?"

Pepper shrugged. "Drive-thru."

"Oh."

Tony turned back towards the others. "You kids wanna join us?"

Ned's eyes grew even wider at that, if such a thing were possible. "Mom...waiting...me...go..."

"He'll take a rain check." Peter translated, placing a hand on Ned's shoulder before forcefully spinning the teen and pushing him back over towards the other teammates. Michelle shrugged her shoulders. "I gotta go make sure those idiots don't burn down a taco stand or something while they're celebrating."

Peter grimaced slightly at that. "Right. The others. Listen...you think they'll mind if I go off and-"

"Peter." She held up two hands. "Getting stale grimy tacos from a stand that could double as a mobile garbage dump...or ice cream with a billionaire." She let a smirk fall onto her face as she patted him on the shoulder. "I think they'll understand."

He smiled at her. "Thanks, MJ." He called as she turned away, getting a middle finger in response. He only chuckled at the sight, Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey cocking a brow and tilting their heads at the gesture before the billionaire shrugged his shoulders. _Teenagers._

Rhodey glanced behind him at the curtain that blocked off the backstage area fro the main hall. "Now, as lovely as it would be going through the sea of sweaty dads and sob-happy moms waiting for us behind those curtains, you know if there's a back entrance to this place?" he asked, Happy already having left to go and get the car ready.

Peter grinned at that and motioned for them to follow him.

A few minutes later had the four of them dashing through the rusted metal door leading to the alley behind the convention center, Peter jumping over the railing while the others took a more _human_ approach and climbed down the few stairs leading to the ground, a sleek black car pulling up right as they landed. Jumping into the car, Pepper, Tony and Peter climbed into the back while Happy and Rhodey took the front.

"Where to?" The driver called from the front.

Tony looked down and glanced at Peter, the teen giving him the brightest smile he'd ever seen, Tony chest expanding in a strange way at the sight. He couldn't resist the smile that grew onto his own face as he ruffled the teen's hair and turned back towards the front.

"Happy, find the crappiest ice cream place around here."

Peter perked at that. "I know a place where Ned once found a thumb in his bowl."

"Perfect!"

* * *

 **Guess who's back, peeps!**

 **I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter. Two months is a long time. But school just got back into the swing of things and its senior year so I gotta do things RIGHT. Anyway, I'm sorry. I wish I could say there's gonna be a more consistent schedule but there isn't. I can only do the best I can. I promise I'm always working and this story will NEVER be discontinued. I'm always trying my best and I thank you so much for your patience and continued love and support. I truly love all of you so much.**

 **Alright, it'd 10:56, I have school in the morning and I have a TON of things to get through so let's make this quick! What was up with that calendar scene? What date is Peter dreading? Any guesses? Leave them in the comments below! Also that scene with Danny's gonna bet he last one for a while so don't worry about seeing him too often.**

 **Um...not much else to say to be honest. I'm trying to wrap this up as quickly as possible before it gets too late and I have to put this off for tomorrow which I HATE!**

 **OOOHHH! BIG THING! This chapter was probably the last fluff-filled one for a while. That's right. Next few chapters are gonna be INTENSE so watch out, especially the end of the next chapter. That's right, babies! Hold onto your butts cause we're going for a ride!**

 **Anyway, thanks to everyone for favoriting and/or following: _Gembomz, Panda-chun, ebarnea25, helen101, pearlynlsw, I-love-Paddy, IllustratedIdeals, MaMZg67, , supernatural015, MaxN04, lordmeciel2009, paigenhill1221, Tenshi-Tamahotchi-Ao, DemonOfADiamon, MorningIdea, ravensong78, Michelle2003, Fanficjunkie93, dagonslayer51, Spitfire147, Robin spider, sunkissedvampire, Midnight Phantasma, gcolston, , blingsing, stupidhalfmortalauthor, Kenzie!, CaptainS10, XplutoX, Reaha2001, ifunny1, lagrimas de fenix, Fenixfyrh, WeirdAtHeart, , FakedLaughter01, mdybls, PokemonGhoul, BUNNYKAT12, Ruxi Puxi, asveerapaneni, ntnhkmh98, HarryPotterManiacWrites, Keyli, Ecb1226, Mikisukami, SlytherinGreek, martinsamara99, MPH Matthew, grafvonkrolock1, theyellowkoala, Skyress98, BookDragon28, Harley Quinzel1, GeekInTheCorner, annasaotome83;_ _Bakuran1313, ebarnea25, leia010102, sofi kuran, scorpio273, Trypy, Maskshredder, bluewind88, LizchenSun, Indianweaver, friendBlue, DragonWriter0316, HappyBrainiac13, litterallyfigurative, srd8952, queenofnarnia1998, recondite17, monsseval, GrimmWood, lori hernandez, Ruxi Puxi, TC Howl, MarvelNinja10, whattheDalek, RiderWitchVampire7, Waterfall-Orchid, Marantette, Yasthisisgreat, coconutsarethebest15, Punasilma, Malorne-10, hishamkm, R2D2CHU_**

 **Reviews:**

 **katilange: Yes, the overuse of OCs literally drives me crazy so I'll try to avoid doing that in this story. You'll see a lot more development of Danny as time passes, including some things that might shock you.**

 **Merlikuty: It's all good, sis. Emotional comments are like finding gold in a garbage dump (not that your comments are garbage, lovelies. Just for analogies sake) so don't fret. Any comment makes my day, big** **or small! So thanks for writing one!**

 **Blaney: Everybody does love some good ol' fashion butt-kicking. Especially when Natasha is at the forefront!**

 **Wxnderland: I don't know! What IS the lie all about! And what's with the butterflies on the cover page?! What am I planning? Should you be concerned? I think you should! MWAHAHAHAhA...*cough*...**

 **IDontWannaGo: HOnestly, I really like the new title too. I feel like it just fits the story and the mood a lot better than the previous one**

 **helen101: Dude you don't have to talk to me about bedtimes. I'm literally racing the clock here. It's 11:20 and I need to sleep!**

 **Purpleflame2: Thanks, girl! Usually, people are a little skeptical of OCs so it's nice to see some with open minds like you and a lot of other followers so lots of love!**

 **I.D's Fantasy: Thanks, boo. You'll see how Danny plays out with the rest of the story and also how Tony and Peter's relationshipc otniues to evolve. However, I think you'll need some tisues with the upcoming chapters so just be prepared.**

 **sillysammijo: dude, if you respond (and it's more than a couple of words) I'll always respond! talking to you guys is one of the highlights of writing on this site and I love hearing what you think!**

 **.Seven: We'll see how your opinion of Danny evolves as this story progresses.**

 **monkeybabyL thanks, babe.**

 **Midnight Phantasma: Now you've got another chapter to catch up on, hon! Right, on the child-abuse thing...you'd better prepare yourself. Since I'm realizing that some of my followers might not want to read anything too graphic, I'll be sure to add a warning if anything like experimentation or dissections comes up (which it shouldn't get that far so don't worry about that.) From what you've seen so far, things might dial up a _tad_ bit more so just be prepared. I can leave a few warning up at the start of a chapter if you wanna skip those parts altogether**

 **nanigirl15: dude, I completely understand. Your friend needs to roll with the punches and catch up!**

 **HappyBrainiac: I love binge reading. Also no update schedule sadly. Sorry about that but my OWn personal schedule is just way too crazy for me to make anything concrete. Plus having a schedule would just make things way too tight and the rush to put out chapters on time would probably make them go down in quality which I will NEVER do.**

 **potatokarate: FFH is one of my all-time favorites now I love it so frikkin much! It's literally the best.**

 **cargumentluv: You'll get more info on Danny as the story progresses so your opinion of him will definitely have time to develop and evolve as the story grows and grows**

 **AoifeMorris7: Well if you ever feel like commenting again (thanks for that btw I frikkin love you), I'll be here to talk to you :D**

 **Mikitsukami: yeah, the suspense usually makes me jittery and anxious for an update, so thank you for reading this story anyway! I'll try and get those out as fast as possible for you guys.**

 **helon101: NEVER STOP COMMENTING, MY CHILD! No seriously...please never stop. It literally makes my day. I'm so happy.**

 **(Sorry I couldn't respond to all of you this time but it's really late, I need to go to bed, and I just did what I could. Apologies, lovely readers and thank you to everyone who took the time to comment. I really appreciate it.)**


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